


Strangled

by RoseShower



Category: Star vs. The Forces Of Evil
Genre: Anger, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Anxiety, Anxiety Attacks, Betrayal, Depression, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Explicit Language, F/M, Fluff and Angst, Graphic Description, Hurt/Comfort, Implied/Referenced Character Death, Implied/Referenced Rape/Non-con, Magic, Panic Attacks, Princess - Freeform, Queen - Freeform, Rape Recovery, Sadness, Suggestive Themes, Suicide Attempt, future smut
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-05-02
Updated: 2020-12-22
Packaged: 2021-03-01 21:34:04
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 7
Words: 53,825
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23960146
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/RoseShower/pseuds/RoseShower
Summary: His life had been filled with death and heartbreak, changing him for the worst. That is, until one obedient princess helped change it for the better. - [MarcoBadBoy!AU]
Relationships: Star Butterfly/Marco Diaz, Tom Lucitor/Janna Ordonia
Comments: 36
Kudos: 42





	1. Undeniable

**Author's Note:**

> Hello there lovelies! I hope you all enjoy this Starco story. Just a few things. Everybody is between the ages of 17-19. Star, of course, was sent to Saint-Olgas, and Marco is a broken Bad-Boy. Alright, enough said. Let's get on with the chapter!
> 
> I do not own Star Vs. The Forces of Evil.

_Narrator's P.O.V_

* * *

**[. . .]**

* * *

Star looked upon her mirror and frowned as her eyes traveled all over her body, examining her posture. It had only been a month. But it was time to move, yet again.

With a held back sigh, she opened one of her pink-colored suitcases and placed a couple of dresses she was going to be taking, including some undergarments, towels, and a brush. All of this packing was making her exhausted, and she refused to use her wand due to how much damage she had recently caused while using it. She has lately been given the wand after returning from her four-year sentence in Saint Olga's, and Star had all but fixed the entire place. Even if it wasn't her fault, she felt it be so. She had no knowledge about how to use the wand.

With yet another frown, she walked over to her closet to retrieve three more of her dresses; placing them inside the same suitcase before shutting it with a soft ' _click_ '.

"Are you done packing, sweetie?" Her mother called from the other side of her bedroom door, knocking on the hardwood.

Star stilled in place, instinctive. "Yes, mother." She replied formally, hating the way her voice slightly wavered.

The door opened slowly, creaking as it did so. A woman with diamond cheek marks and a huge blue dress appeared at the door, her presence emitting royalty. "That's wonderful, I'm just going to get the guards to help you place your things into the carriage." Her mom told her, smiling.

She nodded and walked out of the room quickly, hoping that she wouldn't be in her mother's presence any longer. You see, she has random moments of when she was in shock. Often, her mother would trigger such imagery she wished she never witnessed in her stay in the famous Princess Reform School.

Her mind goes back to it every second, every peaceful night and busy morning, every silence, and every momentum. There was no calm... no rest in her life. Her mind was plagued by the haunting things she saw and experienced, never once finding any moment of tranquility.

Her mother noticed her reaction and felt pity. Ever since her daughter had returned from sending her off, she... had been acting strange.

Sure, she acted much more proper, as it was expected, but... that didn't deny the fact that even she, her mother, knew something was wrong.

Maybe she shouldn't have sent her to Saint Olga's. Perhaps there would've been a better option. Ah, but there was nothing she could do now. Her daughter was fully changed into an individual of respect and obligation.

Or was she?

* * *

**[. . .]**

* * *

Star could see the carriage now, and she quickly rushed over to it as fast as she could to get away from her mother. She didn't wish to face her in the state she was in.

"Star, wait!" Someone called out to her, light footsteps heard from behind. She forced herself to turn around and found her mother running after her with something in her hand. Her face immediately returned to her usual neutrality, her back straightening as well to hide the anxiousness that spilled in every direction.

"Yes, mother?" She asked her, hoping her expression didn't give off the way she was truly feeling.

Her mother handed her the family wand, a little out of breath. "You almost forgot your wand. Try to be careful next time." Moon told her, scolding her lightly.

Star looked at the wand and her eyes flashed for a moment.

_A knife, the tip covered with barely any blood. But there was blood, the tiniest she could see. She knows. It was just a matter of seconds before they—_

"Sweetie?" Her mother asked again when she received no response from her daughter. Star looked up and excused herself, before grabbing the wand and scurrying off into the carriage. She was unaware of her wand changing into her design of wings and horns, just as she was unaware of it pulsing green. Her mother waved her goodbye, but she ignored her.

As Star entered the carriage, she lifted her arm, looking at the same little purple scar that caused her so much devastation. "I need help." She muttered to herself quietly.

* * *

**[. . .]**

* * *

Marco thought today was going to be a better day. But of course, life had other plans.

He spit harshly onto the dirty cement below where he walked, frowning as he pushed against the doors with great force aside. He looked around the same disgusting hallways, the same disgusting people, and made his way towards his first period.

The only reason he was going to class today was to benefit the boxing teacher that warned him to attend. No attendance, no afterschool punching sessions. And he anxiously needed to punch something today.

Plus, attending school helped distract his mind with irritable things. Sure, he hated it, but at least he wasn't cooped up in his house the entire time. Though, he would much rather be there than _here_.

Walking past the rows of students on their lockers, Marco couldn't help but make his scowl deepen upon hearing the things they said, or the way their invasive eyes scanned him over as if he were some murderer. He should be used to their stares and looks of fear, but again, after four years, things were still the same. And not once did he ever get used to anything.

Well, perhaps his misfortune.

He entered the classroom the moment the bell rang. Upon entering, he received a nasty yet surprised look from the teacher. She stopped writing on the whiteboard, and her eyes then narrowed into slits.

"Well, look who decided to come today. And on time!" The teacher barked, pointing her wasted marker at him.

He grunted and went all the way to the back of the room to sit down harshly onto a creaky broken chair, not at all in the mood to argue with the teacher today. The teacher eyed him the whole time, which he rolled his eyes to.

"Look, _missus_ , can you stop staring at me? I don't have time for this." He told her calmly, a slight growl in his voice. It was no use, he would never find any place where everyone would just _not_ bother him. It was expected.

She gave him the stink eye and turned around to write on the whiteboard, choosing to ignore her student. It was only Thursday, and the week was already tiring enough. Just as she lifted her marker and pressed at the whiteboard, the phone rang, stopping a couple of students from their loud discussion. She sighed angrily and stomped over to the phone, picking it up with her badly manicured fingers.

Marco watched as the teacher talked on the phone, her eyes casting on him from time to time. It got to the point where it was beginning to annoy him. What the hell was she looking at anyway?

"Diaz, they want ya at the office." She snarled once she finished talking, slamming the phone back onto it's holding.

He groaned and threw his head back in frustration, wondering what they accused of him this time.

* * *

**[. . .]**

* * *

Marco entered the principal's office, an annoyed scowl displayed on his face. Can't he just have _one_ day of peace? Jesus Christ.

His eyes landed straight on the principle sitting in his usual red chair with his chubby looking self.

"Here we go again, Diaz. It's like there's nothing else for you to do other than mess around! Now you're in here again, and this time it's for a very good reason." He started, clasping his hands together in a laced fold.

Marco glared with no respect. "Right. What did I do _this_ time?" He asked, sarcastic.

The principal frowned and pointed at the blue chair seated in front of him. Marco looked at his movement then at the chair, heading over to sit on it when he got the clue. The principle folded his arms.

"I believe Diaz," He grabbed Marco's file and opened it, "that this belongs to you." He said, handing him a small ticket fee.

Marco took the ticket from his hands and almost felt his eyes bulge out of his head. You know regularly, Marco didn't seem affected by his doings. But he didn't do whatever was written on this, that's for sure. I mean, breaking one of the urinals in the bathroom? Are you kidding?

"What the hell!? I didn't do any of this shit, fatty. Why're you giving it to me?" Marco yelled at him, slamming the ticket onto the table. The principal jumped a little by his action but then composed himself.

"Quit the lying! I know for sure it was _you_." He replied, sure of it.

Marco looked at him with an expression that displayed shock and anger. "What? Just because I skip school doesn't mean I did this! What is it with you dumbass teachers and pointing fingers!?" He exclaimed, clearly offended. He never did anything, yet people accused him. _It's not my fault._

The principal sighed. "Look, Diaz, we don't just 'point' fingers. We take the evidence from the scene and connect it to whatever we see." He explained casually, pushing up his glasses.

Marco bristled. "So you just presumed it was me who did it because I'm a male and use the school restroom?" He asked, angered.

"In a word," the teacher cleared his throat, "Yes."

Marco was about to respond with a sharp remark about how the entire school system is rigged when he was interrupted by a loud knock coming from the office door. "Come in." The principal called, making Marco only glare further from such interruption.

In stepped two large armored guards. One held a chest while the other held a scroll. A beautiful petite blonde-haired girl stepped inside with them, wearing a crown and a beautiful elegant blue dress. Her hair was up with a beautiful big red bow, which was ripped slightly by one of its strands.

Marco turned to all of them with wide eyes, the principal the opposite. He looked idle, "Hello, gentlemen. And young lady," She looked up and lifted the ends of her dress in a greeting, "What brings you all to my office?" The principle asked, ignoring the way Marco turned his widened eyes to look at the girl when she curtsied, his mind not believing what he was witnessing.

The guard with the scroll in hand took a big step forward suddenly, opening the glowing scroll.

In a loud booming voice, the guard read from the scroll, "Hello fellow Terrans! We have come to introduce you to Princess Star of Mewni! She shall be attending this location called 'Echo Creek Academy', and in return for this, we shall give you a mighty reward!" The second guard popped open the chest, revealing jewels, gold, and even diamonds.

The principal almost had a heart attack upon taking a witness to the golden and shiny objects. "Yes, yes! She— _erhm_ —she shall attend this school!" He immediately agreed, his eyes radiating _greed_.

The guard with the chest spoke, "You shall receive the reward in another condition. She will need a guide to help her throughout her time staying here with the ability to teach her everything she will need to know about this realm."

The principal nodded and desperately looked around, finding none of his assistant helpers present at the moment. _Right_. He sent them to get papers earlier.

Marco stood there, unable to move because of how shocked he still was. Upon noticing him, this gave the Principle an idea. "Ah—Um yes! This boy here—" He pointed at Marco, grabbing him by the arm, "Will tell her and teach her everything she needs to know."

Marco stopped looking at them and snapped his head to the principle, looking at him as if he was crazy. "Wait—wait, _What_ —"

"Excellent!" The guards both shouted. "We leave the princess in your hands." One guard said, and with that, they left, not before the Principal practically snatched the chest to gaze upon the contents inside.

Marco looked like someone had just told him a rabbit wasn't a bunny.

After the guards had exited, Star turned her head up to look, her crystal blue eyes landing on him. Her eyes widened upon taking a look, her cheeks becoming pink. He looked rather... handsome, though distasteful. His outfit radiated _rebel_ towards her, and she couldn't help but grimace. Black hoodie, jeans, red Converse… A few tattoos on his arms, a scar on his cheek…

Marco walked up to her slowly, scowling.

She kept her gaze on him, still examining him from head to toe. This was highly inappropriate, but Star had completely forgotten she was still in existence.

She kept staring at him until he was right in front of her, unaware of what he was saying.

"Didn't you hear me, sweet cheeks?" He asked her, making her pause and blink, suddenly realizing where she was.

Her eyes blinked up at him innocently, and she suddenly found herself without anything to say. Her pink hearts glowed a slight tinge of pink, and she excused herself for how out of focus she was.

He replied only with a glare.

* * *

**[. . .]**

* * *

Marco slammed the door open and exit out the principal's room, hands inside his hoodie's pocket. After a not-so-fun talk with the principal telling him blabbering nonsense, he decided it was better to do this than have his boxing classes come clean cut. I mean, how bad could this all be? It was better than being in class for the whole day that's for sure.

He turned his head to look at her, observing how her cool eyes stared at him. Maybe if he left her alone— _Nah_. The cameras were near. Can't leave if he knows the principal will see.

Rolling his eyes, he ignored the girl behind him and continued walking, hoping that she would get lost and find someone else to tell her. It wasn't technically his responsibility to show her around, right? So it didn't bother him much.

He felt a presence catch up and walk beside him. It didn't take him a whole geometric understanding to know who it was. He turned to look at her.

"Hello," She said politely, blank.

He turned forwards and ignored her.

"I'm sorry to bother, but where exactly are we going?" She asked, still polite despite the small pang of irritation that shot through her upon being ignored.

"Why don't you figure it out?" He replied snarkily, clearly annoyed.

She scowled. "Excuse me, what's with the attitude? I only simply asked one question."

He sneered. "And that's your mistake right there. I don't really like it when people ask me questions. It's annoying." He told her honestly, noticing the fire in her eyes. Anger, perhaps.

She inhaled a breath and released it. "It was only a question. A simple one, at that." She said, obviously hurt. This guy was treating her like some sort of garbage. Well, it wasn't anything new. "What is so wrong with a question?"

Marco scowled at that. There was nothing wrong with a question. He just couldn't bother with people asking questions, let alone talking with him. Deciding he had nothing to say, he looked onwards, clearly trying to get this girl off his back. Jeez, this was just another start of another mess wasn't it?

Realizing that this person wasn't going to help her, Star remained quiet, deciding to focus her attention on looking around. Maybe with observing the place, she could find the answers to her questions.

As she looked around, she was unaware of Marco's eyes on her very being, taking a good look at her. It was surprising, to say the least, to find a pretty— _a girl_ with... an almost practical ball gown. It reached up to the ground, it just wasn't puffy like the ones he's seen in princess books. It was long but loose, yet tight from the waist up, covering her arms but never her neckline. If he had to be invasive, he would be able to see cleavage if it wasn't for the fact she was, uncomfortably, pulling her dress up each time.

He also noticed the shiny crown on her head, along with a bright red bow that held her hair up in a ponytail. It complemented her well with her outfit, however, Marco couldn't help but notice that the crown didn't exactly... suit her. But who cared? Not him.

Traveling back up, Marco noticed she had hearts on both of her cheeks. It would have been normal for him, if not for the fact that he had seen them glow before. It creeped him out a tiny bit, but he couldn't dutifully care. And although her blue eyes looked beautiful even with the awful lighting of the halls, he could tell that she held something back. They weren't bright nor full of joy, but rather plain, and all placid.

It made him think.

Star turned to look at him once more and found him still, all the same, minding his own business. It made her frown, and she felt quite stupid to be following him around when he wasn't telling her about anything. About to open her mouth and ask again, she realized he was speaking to her.

"We're heading to the cafeteria. Just to... show you or whatever." He finally answered, eyes elsewhere.

Star stopped thinking and looked surprised. Then, realizing she hadn't replied, she smiled. "Oh. I presume its... Where we receive food, correct?" She asked, remembering that there was a cafeteria back when... She decided not to think about that place anymore.

Marco looked at her then, noticing her frown. He decided not to pay it any mind. "Obviously." He said, "Don't you know what that is?"

Star offered a nervous smile. "I apologize. I'm not from around here." She said honestly, twiddling with her wand's wings.

Marco raised an eyebrow. He hadn't heard a word those weird guard looking guys said, so this information he was receiving from her was confusing him. "So... You're not from America?" He asked, then noted to tone down the questions.

"America?" Star said, furrowing her eyebrows. "I thought this dimension was... Earth?" She asked, confused.

"Dimension?" He asked in turn, making a face and completely ignoring his own advice, "What are you _talking_ about?" Who is this? Is she mentally ill...?

"Why yes," Star said, smiling politely. "I am a magical princess from another dimension," She said, presenting her wand for it to sparkle glitter. Wow, it didn't set on fire this time.

Marco stopped, absolutely flabbergasted. What the _Fuck_? She was a _what_ now? "Uh..."

"Look," She pointed her wand at a set of lockers, releasing a glittering wave towards them. The moment the wave of magic touched the metallic material of the lockers, they melted, causing Star to wince and set her wand down. "Ah... I'm sorry," She turned to his still form, "I'm not exactly an expert on my use of magic yet." She told him sheepishly, arms to her side.

Marco was looking at the lockers without emotion, except for his slightly open mouth, indicating he was shocked by it all. This... This wasn't physically possible. How can this girl, with an almost perfect American accent, looking decently human, be from another dimension? And how the hell did her wand magically destroy those lockers? Magic doesn't exist!

His chocolate eyes turned back to her then, narrowing. "What the fuck?" He simply said, stepping away.

Star frowned. "Did I insult you by destroying those objects? I'm terribly sorry. I cannot control this... magic. That is why I was sent here, and—" She sighed and looked down dejectedly, lacing her hands together in front of her. "I do understand if you wish to... not continue the tour." She said, reminding herself to straighten.

Marco didn't know what was happening. He just knew he was very... freaked out. And this was new to him, because—What the fuck? You know, this just wasn't normal. At all.

So, to talk to her without him freaking out, he said nothing and kept those thoughts to himself. This was probably just some prank, anyway. "Whatever." He muttered, continuing his walk, hoping to forget what he just witnessed.

She looked and remained still as she watched him walk away, wondering if she should follow or not.

After a moment's decision, she followed after him, hoping not to embarrass herself further.

At that moment, she suddenly realized something. Where was she going to sleep? She started freaking out internally, and she hoped with all her might that Marco wouldn't notice her heavy breathing. If she were not able to find a place to sleep before the ball of light in the sky became night, then she would have to regretfully sleep in her carriage, or out in the wilderness. Her mother would probably be furious with her if she told her she had no place to sleep in.

"I apologize, but," She paused, watching him side-eye her briefly, "Where are... the dorms?"

Marco stopped and looked at her. He raised an eyebrow, deciding not to question it. "There are no dorms here." He replied instead.

Star, surprisingly, managed to mask the dread on her face. "No... dorms? But I thought this was... an academy?" She asked, trying to hide how anxious she felt. She could already feel her breath begin to clog in her throat, and her heart accelerate as if squeezing itself.

Marco looked irritated and crossed his arms. "This is a _school_. There's only classrooms and bitchy students around here." He said, disinterested. Why was she asking? Did she not have a place to stay?

Star made a face at his use of language. Nevermind that, though. She needed a place to stay. "Is there an area nearby where there are dorms? A temporary home, perhaps?" She asked, a little embarrassed to be asking this question. People expected future queens to be prepared, and yet here she was, without any plans?

Marco's expression held it's scorn. "Not that I know of." He shrugged, obviously not engaged. It was pointless, this was Echo Creek. There was nothing around here that was _useful_.

At the sudden look of disappointment and sorrow on her face, a sudden thought came to his mind. And though he would never, not _ever_ , consider this to anyone, he realized that he was considering this to a girl he just met.

It was conflicting. This was a weird, actual magical girl, who claimed to be a princess, from another dimension, that just happened to come here and not have... what he presumed, a place to stay. He wouldn't consider this. At all. He barely knew her, and he was certainly freaked out about her. But... He couldn't help but feel a little out of place all of a sudden, just by looking at her.

"You said... temporary, right?" He asked, surprised with himself that he was going through with it.

Star suddenly brightened, "Yes, of course," She replied, eager. Though, she was doing a good job of keeping herself from jumping in place.

Marco contemplated. With a side-scowl and a defeated sigh, he gave in. "You can stay at my place for now. Just because." He muttered, not meeting her eyes when she looked at him with... whatever that feeling was.

Breathing a sigh of relief, she offered a kind smile, "Thank you."

Marco looked right at her then, blank. That smile... it made him think.

But not enough, for after that brief conversation, he returned to the task at hand, not at all thinking about the risks that would bring when he offered his place as a stay.

* * *

**[. . .]**

* * *

Stopping at the open double doors, Marco turned to look over at Star, who seemed all but happy. He didn't know why, but of course, it must've had something to do with him. He rolled his eyes, "And this is the Cafeteria or whatever." He looked back towards the tables and felt relieved to find it mostly empty, except for certain kids that ditched around. Probably their free period. "I suggest you don't eat from here," He told her casually, stepping inside.

Star followed suit. "Why?" She asked him.

"Food is contaminated." He told her, tone bored, obviously hoping this whole tour could go by much quicker. That talk they had in the hallway kind of took away the time they had.

Star felt surprised. This dimension was... not what she expected it to be. Good thing he told her that, she was just about to consider eating something from there.

Walking onward, the walk was mostly silent besides Star's frequent questions, and Marco's irritated grumbles. It wasn't so bad, Star thought; at least Marco was _answering_ her now. Earlier he was barely even looking at her.

Although she felt much better that he was answering her questions, she still couldn't help but feel slightly irritated that he would always respond with a harshness to his voice. It was as if he hated her presence near him, or as if he didn't want her there. She presumed he liked being alone, based on her observations. If she were to get near him, he would respectfully distance himself from her. Or when she would attempt small talk, he would just ignore her. It was only the necessary questions that he answered.

In conclusion, he hated her, and he was a bit of a jerk.

"Hurry up, yeah? I don't like being in here." He growled, turning to her, taking a quick peek to his left.

Scratch that, he was a big jerk. "Excuse me? I'm going at a relative pace. Besides, I'm only taking a look to familiarize myself." She said, glaring at him. How rude.

Marco scrunched up his nose and rolled his eyes. "Yeah, whatever, Queeny." He muttered, still walking. She glared at him because of the new nickname, wondering if he was that much of a jerk to leave her. Oh well, if he did, then she would just... Well, she would have to do something else just in case. Whatever that was.

Busy looking around, she was oblivious to her surroundings, accidentally bumping into someone.

She almost fell onto the floor if not for some reason, Marco catching her before she fell. How had he—Why was her dress wet and dripping?

Almost immediately, she could feel wetness soaking on her new dress, making her glance down and notice it had a dark purple stain.

Standing up, she made a face and turned to look at who bumped into her, finding three girls, two of whom were laughing at her. The only one that wasn't laughing was a girl wearing an aqua green t-shirt and some shorts. However, there seemed to be a hidden smirk under her blank expression.

Star was about to apologize, but... Marco didn't seem all to keen on letting her do so. Mostly because now, he was glaring at this girl as if he were about to kill her.

"Jesus Christ," Star heard Marco mutter under his breath, making her still. "Why the fuck are you here?" Marco asked, his glare scorching as his eyes turned to the girl.

The girl with an aquatic streak in her hair grinned at him, "None of your damn business. Can't a girl introduce herself?" She replied, tipping her skateboard up and holding it with her hand.

Marco remained silent but rolled his eyes. So much for avoiding her...

Turning to Star, he crossed his arms and glared, "Let's go." He said, brushing past her.

Star was about to follow, but the girl with the skateboard grabbed onto her, pulling her back.

Star's eyes widened, "Miss—"

"Look, Girlie," She sneered, gripping her forearm tightly, "I don't—"

"Fuck off, Jackie. I'm serious." Marco hissed darkly, ripping her arm away from Stars. "I don't want you around my _territory_." He seethed. He's told her time and time again he didn't want to see her around him. He also didn't want her to bother him, as seeing her only brought terrible memories into his head.

Jackie rubbed her wrist and snorted, "Since when was _this_ ," Her eyes idly landed on Stars, "Your territory?" The girls behind her giggled.

"You know what I fucking mean," Marco growled in reply, "Just fuck off. I don't want to deal with your stupidity right now."

Jackie's lips clamped shut, but her smile stayed intact. With a small flicker of hatred in Star's direction, she walked passed them, the girls following behind her.

Star and Marco watched her leave, and without much said, Marco left as well, probably to leave her too.

It didn't bother her, though she wished he would have at least been decent enough to—

"Here," He said to her, turning back to her and handing her a few napkins.

Star took them and looked at him, only to find him walking away again.

* * *

**[. . .]**

* * *

Star, upon cleaning a certain amount of the stain throughout the entire tour, muttered something to herself about dresses.

Marco only glanced at her as he stopped by his Locker, hearing what she said. Throughout his day of showing her around, he had noticed that she seemed pretty embarrassed with only a simple cranberry juice stain. He also noted that she was pretty persistent in trying to remove it. "Your dress doesn't look too bad." He said truthfully, however, he sounded still rather irritated.

She took notice of how his once vexed expression seemed neutral now and smiled at him. "Thank you..." Her smile fell, however, "Oh stars, I forgot your name." She said, releasing a small sigh, "I'm sorry I don't pay atten—"

"Marco Diaz." He told her, cutting her off mid-sentence. "My name is Marco Diaz." He repeated for good measure, still no emotion in those eyes of his.

Star took note that she liked that name, despite not liking his attitude. But she'll let it slide, for now. "It's a pleasure to meet you, Marco. I don't think you know my name, either that or you forgot about it," She watched how he raised an eyebrow, "I'm Star, Star Butterfly."

Although he was fully aware she might have mentioned it before, he was rather glad she repeated it. He often forgot about names, mostly because he just didn't find them important.

When he glanced down, he found her hand stuck out at what he assumed to be a handshake. He made a face, "I don't do handshakes..." He muttered.

She huffed in annoyance, as she was tired of his rudeness. Couldn't he have respectfully declined? Besides, her hand wasn't even remotely dirty—

Star would say she was surprised yet again as he willingly took her hand and gave it a firm shake. Is he bipolar?

She looked down at their hands making contact, and suddenly, her eyes widened. This... wasn't real...?

_Blood could be seen oozing from her arm, her fingers itching to remove it. Her wide eyes looked up to see the standing corpse of a princess she once knew, a forced smile on her face. The men behind the corpse stood behind, metallic scissors stabbing into the body—Stabbing into **her** body—_

Marco instantly felt her hand tighten around his own, and the way her eyes suddenly became... green. Her eyes were on him, her breathing shallow, looking spooked, terrorized.

"Don't..." She whispered, staring right at him, eyes almost at the brink of tears.

Marco looked behind him and then back at her, looking a little shaken himself. What was happening? Why did she look so... scared? About to ask her what was happening, Star's eyes returned to their normal color, her expression relaxing.

She closed her eyes, and opened them up again, finding herself back in the school with a somewhat uneasy Marco staring at her.

She let go of his hand and wiped some cold sweat that happened to be on her forehead. "I'm... Excuse my actions," She chuckled nervously, still shaken up, looking at his confused appearance, "I wasn't thinking right."

He gave her a questioning look but didn't comment on anything else.

Whatever just happened to her... confused him. But he didn't exactly... care much. He only met her today, after all. And even if, he cares for no one anymore.

Not even himself.

* * *

**[. . .]**

* * *

The moment Marco left the school, he could suddenly tell that she felt uncomfortable. If he were a good person he would ask why, but he wouldn't like to bother. It wasn't in him to worry anyway, as it only brought trouble.

They arrived at his home and she continued feeling miserable. He made a guess it was either because of the stain on her dress, or the way she suddenly acted back at school.

"Do... Do you know where the changing room is?" She asked him awkwardly the moment he sat down on the couch.

He side-eyed her, remote already in hand, "You mean the bathroom?"

She looked rather embarrassed. "Erhm... Yes, I suppose."

"It's on the second floor, third door to your right." He answered blankly, turning on the T.V and leaning back on the couch. Again, he didn't exactly mind what she felt. He invited her over, and if she wanted to stay, she could. And if she didn't, then he would feel indifferent, all the same.

She nodded and replied with a quick, "Thank you", before heading upstairs.

He watched her leave, somewhat upset that she was no longer next to him. He looked all over her back.

He did have a nice view though.

* * *

**[. . .]**

* * *

Star stepped inside the bathroom carefully, finding it dark. _'Oh, dear.. Where is the light source?_ ' She asked herself. Searching the walls, she found no torch, no nothing. She did find two little switches...

"Um, Marco—" She stopped. Maybe she shouldn't bother him anymore. He might get mad at her and try and kill her this time, and then send her away off to an evil village to sell her body parts and her mother will be all alone and upset and disappointed— _okay._ Maybe she was overreacting a little...

Before she had gotten to the respected room, she poofed up her suitcase with a little hesitation, taking out a bright green dress. A small part of her felt proud that a simple spell like this had worked, though, another part of her still felt rather weary, as she had no idea how to find the light source, let alone where to clean and wash her body.

Placing her new attire down, she decided to take her risks and flip the switches. Suddenly, the room was illuminated with bright white lights, and she could now notice the shower in the corner, as well as what she presumed to be the toilet. And _she_ thought there was no magic on earth...

She closed the door behind her, forgetting to lock it as she would normally do back home. Since light just suddenly sprung up out of nowhere, she thought that the doors here automatically locked themselves. Boy was she wrong.

After undressing herself properly and letting her hair down, she moved over to the corner where the tub was and found herself confused. There were two little handles and a showerhead on top, as well as an array of shampoo and soap. After making sure to take out some of her shampoos, she stepped in, gazing at the two little knobs with curiosity.

How would these help her shower? No matter. She'll figure it out.

* * *

**[. . .]**

* * *

Star stepped out of the shower and dried herself, using separate towels she found on a stand near this sink thing...

After drying herself, she put on her undergarments she had left out earlier. She was about to proceed to put on her actual clothing but found the door opening up slowly.

"Hey, Queeny, what's taking you so long? I swear you've been up here for like an—"

She shrieked.

_Fuck. Fuck. Fuck_. "Shit! Sorry!" He breathed and slammed the door shut. The warmth was all over his face, and he could feel himself breathing heavily. Maybe bringing in this spoiled princess was a bad idea...

"Marco! Good Heavens! Where are your manners!?" She screamed from inside the bathroom.

He felt himself turn even rosier. "I didn't know you were done! The door was open so I thought—"

"Well whatever you thought, you thought wrong! Didn't you ever hear about _knocking_ first!?" She yelled back.

He released a groan.

This girl was going to be the end of him.


	2. Wonder

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> His life had been filled with death and heartbreak, changing him for the worst. That is, until one obedient princess helped change it for the better. - [MarcoBadBoy!AU]

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Lovelies! How are all of you? I hope well. Anyways, this chapter will have Jantom, but don't worry! The Starco story will still appear in this chapter. I hope you enjoy!

_Narrator's P.O.V_

* * *

**[. . .]**

* * *

Janna was well aware that whatever she was about to do was going to be a _terrible_ idea.

However, being the queen of mischief, certain businesses weren't a concern to her. Frankly, she couldn't find it in herself to care anymore whether there were consequences or not anyway. Because of this, she was known to get herself in trouble and commit hostile acts. Which was why she was present in the park, plan in hand, boyfriend in mind.

"Come on, pick it up..." She whispered, watching the boy from the bush she was hiding in anxiously. He stood in her sights, near on the ground where her trap of a box of chocolates, a note, and a hidden net was placed.

Up until recently, she believed boys were icky and that she had no use for them. But lately, something's changed... And she began to develop feelings. Yeah, that's right, _feelings_. At first, she was startled, as she was never prone to the fantasies girls held for the opposite gender. Fortunately, she learned to live with them afterward. She called them stupid at times.

The boy saw the little box of chocolates and picked it up and read the note she placed on top. Her face contorted into a smug grin as she watched him read the card.

' _If you don't accept my love, I will end you. I know where you live_.'

Upon seeing the poor boy's expression form to one of terror, Janna's grin became wider.

He opened the box hesitantly with a tremble of his hands, finding perfectly sculpted chocolate figures of his face from the lifted fissure. From the bush, she pulled at a rope while he was distracted.

The rope triggered the net and was shot, missing him by a few inches. He screamed and ran away, dropping the box of chocolates and note, all while leaving a groaning Janna to emerge from the bush. "Ugh, why don't my pick up lines ever work?" She muttered to herself sourly as she walked over to pick up the fallen chocolates. Might as well eat them than leave them there. 5-second rule, am I right?

She plucked the note from the ground as well and sighed angrily before crumpling it up and tossing it into the trash. Maybe Jackie was right... She wasn't good at getting herself a boyfriend. Oh well, Janna could just use some magic instead. Besides, she was just messing around. She wasn't some loveless loser with nothing better to do. _Huh..._ that sounded less pathetic in her head.

Bored, she took one of the chocolates from the box and stuffed them into her mouth, humming in pleasure when the rich cocoa taste hit her tongue. _Sweet_ , at least the chocolates weren't a _complete_ waste.

Scanning about, she left the park she was in and headed for home, as it seemed that she had run out of nets, and she was pretty tired writing those notes over and over again.

A lot of boys were around when she passed by. Some paid her no mind and greeted her instead; those were the boys she'd befriended. The others who knew her best for her witchery weren't quite pleased to see her. They either hid or ran from her. She didn't blame them. Instead, she relished in their fear, allowing herself to smirk and admire the fact that everyone knew she was the local witch. She wasn't, but she was pretty casual about that title.

With yet another chocolate in her mouth, she left for home, minding her business her entirety of the way.

Well, mostly.

* * *

**[. . .]**

* * *

After walking a couple of minutes and passing certain shops and residences, she spotted her home not too far from her. That was weird. She could've sworn it took her about a good 30 minutes to get to the park. Maybe it was because of her shopping?

She shrugged. Who cared, anyway?

Then—

She stopped dead in her trail at the sight of a huge blue carriage, intrigued. Just a couple houses down, there it was, shimmering brightly against the sun rays. It was blue and had white embroidery decorating its sides along with reins that held no horses, making it look almost identical to the coaches in princess movies. _Weird_ , what type of carriage had no horses? Hey... wait a _minute_... Since when were _carriages_ a real thing?

"What the...?" Her eyes darted around to see who or _what_ owned it but found nobody around. She narrowed her eyes and turned to her house, deciding.

Throwing the empty box of chocolates over her head, she smirked, heading mischievously towards the shiny mobile.

She stopped though, as she realized it was in front of... Marco's home.

A contemplation began forming in her head.

Maybe she shouldn't...

' _Oh, yes you should_.'

A sly smile spread on her lips, and she decided to, instead of going home, investigate why he had it there.

* * *

**[. . .]**

* * *

Tom had no idea what he was doing. He was quite simply desirous at this point.

Crossing over the blue portal he made with only a snap of his fingers, he stepped dramatically on the wooden surface of the flooring now burnt, allowing such portal to close itself. He twisted his head to observe his surroundings, surprised to find a dull atmosphere instead of the rich creamy one he was used to in Mewni Castle. A frown caressed his features.

He was sure this dimension was where Moon had told him to go. It didn't seem as green and preposterous as he'd imagined. Perhaps this was where she was staying?

He cringed. How distasteful.

Running a hand through his salmon-colored hair, he let out a sigh and began walking with a heavy heart. If this was where Star was... Then he'd need to wait until she presented herself to him. There was no other way he would be able to speak with her without her leaving. If she could see that he was there, sacrificing his princely needs, then maybe she'd feel piteous enough to give him a chance to talk. I wasn't lying when I said he was desperate.

It was driving him mad because of how long he had seen her since. After hearing that she had been set free not long ago, Tom jumped to his feet and immediately set out to visit her. She was, from what he recalled her mother, Moon, say, in the ' _Terra_ ' dimension. Otherwise known as Earth. She had only been in Mewni for a few months before traveling here. _Weird_... Why would she want to be here?

Tom thought she might be here because she didn't want him to find her. He didn't blame her even if he hated it. They hadn't spoken since his visit to Saint Olga's two years ago.

That didn't deter him from trying, though.

Tom snapped his fingers again and appeared in the next room over.

Setting himself down on the comfortable guest bed of the empty room, he looked towards the wall and waited.

* * *

**[. . .]**

* * *

Janna still had it in her despite what others would say. Her sneak, her cunning craftiness... She had perfected it. Mostly. Not that it was a surprise, of course. Janna was known to be this way.

Successfully trespassing into his home, she gazed marvelously at the carriage, querying where it came from. It looked old up close and when she touched it, bits of paint would smudge away, leaving something purple and rusted in its wake. The white she saw from afar had blemishes of mud and purple paint, which puzzled her. However, she didn't bother with that. She wanted to see what was _inside_ the carriage.

And look she did.

But she frowned in disappointment upon noticing nothing of value, except for a small red bow. _Boring_.

What a _waste_ of—

Janna's eyes widened when the Red bow disappeared. It became nothing but glitter from where it lay. Come to think of it, this whole carriage had glitter all over it...

She narrowed her eyes and pondered, wondering where it went. She looked through the open windows of the carriage, trying to see if it went into another area within it that she'd missed. All she kept finding was glitter.

Okay... _wicked_ , but she wanted answers.

Looking towards Marco's house, a simper formed on her lips. Maybe she'll find those answers inside Marco's house...

Checking to see if anyone was coming by, an idle grin overcame her countenance when she made her move to Marco's door, all while bringing out a small pin she had for emergencies. Due to her intel over the years of breaking into things, she was able to open the door with only a small flicker and twist of her wrist. It became all too easy for her, and she had her pin to thank for it.

It wasn't _that_ easy though.

She realized that properly in her line of vision rested a grim-looking Marco clicking at the remote, eyes focused and fully engrossed on the T.V. He looked just as bothered as she remembered him. Barely, she sensed a diminutive prick of emotion. It left almost immediately.

An exasperated sigh escaped from her mouth. She couldn't just go in there, even if he _was_ distracted. Marco had a keen sense of hearing like that of a bloodhound, and she was _not_ risking her plain old butt for curiosity. Plan B then.

Closing the door gently, she walked off the small porch step and then circled out to the back of his house, looking around. She spotted an open window just above a small balcony and grinned.

Climbing wasn't so hard either. She climbed things since she was a kid, and she knew a bunch of tricks because she took gymnastics for about seven years. It wasn't _good_ acrobatics, but it was enough.

All she needed to do was grab onto the branch in front of his window, and launch herself through it. Climbing up top the tree and almost falling a few times wasn't so bad.

Before she headed for the swing, she made sure that the window was open wide enough for her to go through. Safety first, _unfortunately_.

With all her will, she threw herself, landing right at the edge. She then scrambled a bit, smiling in relief when she caught her footing and successfully made it inside.

She stood up quickly then and smiled triumphantly. _Cool._

Brushing off her dismissive achievement, she began tip-toeing past some rooms and found herself at the top of the staircase. There, she had a perfect view of the living room and _Marco_.

She whistled in her head. He sure is mean, but his looks were still as mean as before; probably even more good looking with that small tattoo on his open collarbone. K, that wasn't what she was _supposed_ to be doing, but whatever.

There seemed to be a door in use, and Janna went over to it to see who it was. She could hear the pitter-patter of the water hitting on the floor, and noted that someone was indeed in there, just taking a shower. ' _I wonder if Marco knows someone's here..._ ' She thought to herself. Perhaps its the owner of the carriage?

Curiously, she turned the knob to check, all the while hearing the water stop. It wasn't until she heard small but thudded steps going up the stairs did she let it go. _Shit_.

Looking around, she found the room right next to the bathroom seemingly open and quickly dashed inside to hide. If Marco knew she was in there, then she would need to use one of her smoke bombs to disappear. She hoped they still worked. If not, then she was screwed.

She locked the door and pushed her hair back, sighing in relief when Marco didn't go to this room to investigate. He was though, right outside.

In the silence beside the awful muffled voice that resembled Marco, an unexpected shriek was heard. Did he just... _murder_ someone? She's probably next! _Fuck—_

"Shit! _sorry_!" A stifled voice screamed as a door shut harshly. Janna jumped by the noise.

"Marco's apologizing...?" Janna muttered to herself curiously and pressed her ear against the door.

"I guess he is." A low voice said from behind her.

_She was never so startled in her life._

Her heart ceased, and her stomach sank at the realization that she wasn't alone. Part of her found that it wasn't at all surprising that she wasn't. Slowly turning around, she was met with... a very hot male that somehow had three eyes? How does that work? He had horns too? Oh lord... was that _fire_? Oh my _god_ —

"Who the fuck are you?" She whispered, her face devoid of emotion. It was a habit. To him, just now, it looked like he hadn't even frightened her.

He chuckled. _God,_ was it sexy to her ears. Who cares if she just met him. This guy was already lifting her off the ground. Internally, she began to laugh maniacally. Another _victim_...

"I'm Tom Lucitor, _Prince_ , of the Underworld." He bowed politely at the greeting, "Are you an inhabitant of this house? Possibly Miss Butterfly's friend...?" He asked, his voice going a little higher.

She gave him a look of total confusion. She scoffed, "What?"

"I'm... Tom?" He tried again. Did she _not_ know he was the almighty Prince of the Underworld?

"Yes, I'm aware of your name dumbass—Hey, did you say _prince_?" She asked, eyes sparkling.

Tom raised an eyebrow "Yes? But why are you so—"

Janna hummed, "This is perfect. Now all I need is a cup, a necklace, and that one book that said how to kill a demon," She muttered to herself, making a list. It was odd seeing the human girl magically pull a pen from behind her to start scribbling nonsense on her wrist.

"You know," He paused as he watched her stop and look at him blankly, "I expected you to scream. Or... faint. Most humans do that anyway. Why is it that you didn't?" He asked, standing from where he sat idly on the bed; he was beginning to burn it. He tried not to dwell on that killing demon thing she just said.

She watched his movements carefully, cautious. Demons were known to play the nice card until they caught you off-guard to suck your soul. Janna didn't remember if she had a soul or not, but she decided to play it safe. "I ain't your average type of girl Mister," She replied casually, examining her nails and offering a cheeky grin. "And might I say that you look _hella_ sexy?" She complimented bluntly, lidding her eyes as she placed a hand on her hip to lean on.

His eyes widened. _Okay_ , that compliment caught him off guard. Who would think a demon looks sexy? He expected so much more with terror than with attraction from the pretty brunette. It wasn't like he was complaining, anyway. Weird or not, he liked the attention. He was just... a bit frazzled that she would have no intention to spray holy water at him.

He cleared his throat, "Erhm, Thank you, I guess." He said awkwardly, scratching his neck.

She licked her lips and looked him up and down, "You're welcome, hottie." She replied, astonished to see an uneasy purple hue overcome his face. In her head, she was laughing maniacally. She had him _right_ where she wanted him. A good-natured manipulation would seriously enhance her skills; it's been a while since she's tried to do so. He's a demon, so manipulating him with hypnosis won't work... so how about seduction?

"—friend?" He finished.

She removed her eyes from his chest and paled. Oh no. Had he been talking? She wasn't paying attention. "Uh... yeaaah.." She answered, hoping that response was the right answer.

Tom brightened. "Really? Okay, can you—"

The doorknob twitched.

They looked down at it simultaneously.

Janna froze. "Shit," She cursed under her breath. This wasn't good, this wasn't good at _all_. Because of her tomfoolery, she wasted too much time. She looked toward the window and ran to it, groaning in defeat when she saw a tree blocking her way down. ' _Okay. Plan B, then.'_

Stuffing her hand into her jeans pocket, she grabbed the ninja bomb and threw it on the floor, expecting it to puff in a smoke.

Tom watched, dumbfounded when the object only made a saggy _thump_ when connecting to the ground.

Janna looked down at it disappointingly when she found it intact. "What the _fuck_?" She hissed, picking it up from the floor and looking at it. It expired _three_ years ago. _Fuck._

Tom looked at her funny. "What is it? I thought you lived here?" He asked, watching her mildly panic.

She ran behind him, clutching at the white fabric of his shirt from behind him as to hide from the unexpected guest, "Well, Funny thing is... I don't." She said, her voice painfully normal.

Tom still didn't know what was happening. All he wanted to do was talk to Star, but then this girl came in, ruining his plans. "What the hell do you mean you don't?" He asked, glaring at her.

She grinned nonchalantly when the knob rattled more.

" _Marco! I hope I don't interrupt, but the guest room door is locked!_ " A voice screamed from the doorway.

Tom smiled. He'd recognize that voice anywhere. Star's there, right there! He could just talk to her again, and she could forgive him and then they'll become a couple again just like before—

"Dude, help me, yeah?" Janna whispered to him, still pulling at his white dress shirt.

He looked down at her quizzically. "With what?"

Janna sighed, "With getting out of here! I can't be seen by that Marco kid." She mumbled, thinking of a plan to escape. She would use one of her old disappearance spells, but she doubted that worked anymore.

Tom huffed. "We have to make a deal first, then. Can't help you without you helping me back." He said, not at all liking the idea of making a deal with this mischievous girl. However, it may bring certain benefits...

Janna looked vacant, considering. ' _Great. So I guess all those movies I watched were right,'_ Janna thought, annoyed _._ Good thing she was prepared. "Yeah, alright, cool, you can like, take my soul or whatever." She said plainly, careless. It's not like she had much use for her soul anyway.

Tom, however, was surprised. "Really? You're—"

The Doorknob rattled exceptionally until it stopped. " _Just use your wand magic thing, or... whatever. I don't think I have my **stupid keys** on me_." Marco said, obviously irritated. I mean, how the hell does a door lock by itself? He's never entered this room!

" _I didn't use my wand because this was your property, and it would be wrong for me to damage it._ " They heard her reply.

" _It's_ **_fine_**. _You can just poof another door. Fuck it, I don't care._ " They heard. He sounded strained.

Janna sighed, already accepting her end. The worst thing was, that she forgot to eat one last time at the Taco place she grew to love and steal from.

"Okay, yeah That soul thing but... I need your help with something else too." Tom said, flames beginning to appear on the tip of his horns as he stared guiltily at the wooden door. He seemed selective.

Janna just took his hand for a good shake, assuming that's how deals were confirmed, "Yeah yeah. Take my soul or something. I'll help you just get me out of here— _mph_ "

Her voice was muffled when something soft and plush-like pressed against her lips. She closed her eyes unwillingly, as if some entity closed them for her, forcing her to succumb to stillness and obedience. It seemed so fast too, and she could feel something leave her body. Like literally... It was as if someone was pulling her, but she stayed in place. _Gross_.

They pulled apart only a second later, and she found herself staring out in the open where the cars usually traveled.

' _What._ ' She thought to herself in disbelief, trying to blink, rubbing her eyes, wondering if this was real. She forgets at times that she ends up in weird situations that she can't fix. And this may be one of them.

Tom appeared next to her in mere moments, and she looked at him.

"What the _fuck_." She stated, narrowing her eyes in suspicion.

He raised an eyebrow upon her reaction. "What?" He said innocently, blinking at her.

"What do you mean, ' _What_?' We make a deal, you kiss me, and then poof," She waves her hands around, "I'm outside, safe, and surprisingly not dead." Janna explained, humming in displeasure. "How'd you do that? Nobody has ever been able to teleport me before..." She muttered, a little intrigued.

He rolled his eyes. "We made a deal, yes. I kissed you, yes, because that's how I'm supposed to take souls," he waved it off, "and yes, we're outside—because we made a deal—and because you wanted to be." He explained, earning a small nod.

Janna stood there gazing at him. Tom looked all around except for her, feeling awkward for the first time in a while. A few moments passed just like that, and each second that passed just made it even more awkward.

"So when a guy makes a deal you have to kiss him to take his soul?" She asked all of a sudden, completely out of question.

He glared and sighed, "Yes, unfortunately."

She chuckled. " _Niiiice_."

Tom scowled. "Hey, a job like this isn't _funny_. It's extremely life-risking and I can even lose my awesome reputation from it." He sassed.

Janna snorted, "Kinky's a better word for it. Considering you like kissing," She elaborated, laughing a bit more.

"Hilarious." He grumbled.

She continued laughing.

" _Okay_. I think you established the _point_."

She laughed louder.

"You better stop," He said a little louder, bristling.

Her stomach hurt from all the laughing.

"I said, _stop!_ " He yelled.

She stopped and looked at him with a raised brow. "Aha... Um, chill out? I was just laughing, hothead." She said, a little surprised.

His eyes widened and he sighed depressingly. Damn it. He got angry again...

"Shit. I'm sorry, I just— _Ugh_. I got pissed again, and if I do please don't take it personally, I have a very low temper." He warned. "It's unfortunately hereditary."

She rolled her eyes. "Yeah, yeah. I can tell _Genius_." She said, flipping her hair. Okay— _ugh_ —she's never acting that girly _again_.

He huffed. "What's with you? You're like the weirdest girl I've met."

She crossed her arms and shrugged. "And what about it?" She smirked at him.

He noticed her reaction. "It's weird." He repeated simply.

"I know. You should bless me for that." Janna said, winking at him. Tom made a face. "I'm kidding."

"You're not." He deadpanned.

"Correct." She smiled, "Hey, you're starting to catch on!"

"Remind me why I saved you again?"

"Because I'm incredibly important." She said, mockingly swiping away at her short hair. A bunch of black and purple glitter fell, along with a red pendant she forgot she had on. "Huh."

Tom issued her a look. "Are you some sort of witch or something?" He asked, watching her pick up the little red circle.

"Something like that." She replied.

Tom blinked. Was this girl serious? "Wow, okay. Freaky, but I guess it's cool." He said, hoping his response didn't elicit another weird suggestive look from her. He didn't exactly believe her.

She turned to him, eyes gleaming with mischief. "Thanks, Tommy. That was nice of you."

He scowled. "Don't call me Tommy."

She smirked. " _Tommy. Tommy. Tommy._ You're my little _Tommy_ —"

"Ugh, you know what? I'm not even going to argue with you. I know enough about you already to know what's gonna happen." He said, placing his hands on his hips. After thinking today was going to go smoothly as he planned, he realized that this girl was bound to stick with him eventually. Probably to annoy him, or worse, just _stare_ at him. _Yeesh_.

"You don't know my name though." She told him while checking her nails.

He raised a finger and opened his mouth to talk, but closed it and put the finger down afterward. He had nothing to say.

"Right. Whatever, I'll save you the trouble. The name's Janna, Janna Banana. Kidding. It's Janna Ordonia." She smiled deviously at him.

He scoffed. "Sounds lame."

She glared. "At Least it's better than the fake cheap version of Satan's name. I mean what the hell does Lucitor even stand for?" She asked, laughing a little.

"Okay fine, fine." He said, annoyed. "I know we're probably having fun here," He pointedly looked at her, "But you also know that we're right in front of that kid's house? We can't just stand here and let him kill you."

She glared at him. "Wait why me? He could kill you too, you know."

He rolled his eyes. "I'm a half-demon if you haven't seen already." He pointed at his third eye and horns, "And I can't die." He told her with a smug grin.

"Yeah, you can actually." She grinned. "You just need some holy water and salt, then _boom_ you're more dead than Jahseh."

His three eyes suddenly sparked charm. "You know what's crazy?" He began walking, and so did she. "My friend Bill made a deal with him a long time ago, and he thought he was the devil! Anyways, you know his soul for a singing career and stuff, he took it. Luckily, he was smart enough to tweak the deal to end up in heaven."

Janna snorted. "Man, this Bill guy sounds like such a _loser_."

Tom shrugged. "He always loses, so maybe."

She stepped onto the sidewalk and went home, thinking nothing when Tom followed.

"Hey uh, If you don't mind me asking— _because I'm sure you won't_ —What were you doing in Marco's place?" She asked, taking out the golden key to her place after walking for a bit, seeing her house in the distance.

Tom issued her an odd look. "Marco? Who's Marco?" He asked, puzzled. "That's his home? I just assumed it was Star's." He said, crossing his arms.

"Star? Who's that?" She asked, her turn to be confused.

"My ex." He replied, making her nod understandably. "But yeah, I was just trying to talk to someone, that's it. What about you?" He shrugged and ran his hand through his hair.

She shrugged as well. "Eh, I was just curious as to why there was a bigass carriage in front of his house is all." She said, leaning on her doorframe upon arriving.

He shook his head. "Don't be stupidly curious, baggy. You're gonna end up dead before we reach the end of our deal."

She snorted. "Baggy? What type of shitty nickname is that?" She asked, opening her front door and heading inside.

"Shitty Nickname for a shitty person." He grinned, following after her.

She scowled. "Watch your mouth, Tommy. You don't want shit in it. Oh, wait," She grinned gleefully, "there is. My bad."

"Ha. Ha. Very funny, shithead." He rolled his eyes.

She laughed, and went into the kitchen, taking out two bags of chips after putting her keys on the counter and opening the fridge. She walked out and tossed one over toward him, seeing him awkwardly stand by the door. "You know, I was gonna head home to relax, but I changed my mind."

"What changed your mind?" He said as he opened the bag. He bit his tongue from telling her she was doing just that.

"My curiosity." She answered simply, stuffing a chip in her mouth.

He chuckled. "Right."

"Hey, um weren't you going to talk to her?" Janna asked him.

Tom hummed. "Yeah, I was. But she's busy right now. Maybe later."

"Don't tell me I'm supposed to help you with _that_ ," Janna asked, but it came out more like a whiny statement.

"Yeah actually," Tom confirmed, face remaining neutral.

Janna groaned. "Great, more lovey-dovey shit."

"Hey you agreed to the deal, don't go whining now that you regret it." He said.

Janna grabbed a chip and threw it at him. "Yeah, I know."

* * *

**[. . .]**

* * *

Star finished dressing and stepped out of the guest room. She had to try and poof up another door so that Marco wouldn't have complete access to her nudity, which proved to be complete torture as she had yet to perform such a spell. It took her more than a dozen times to get it right. At least she learned a new spell.

She made her way downstairs where she found Marco sitting patiently on the couch. He seemed a bit off, even though he remained as normal as possible.

"Are you alright?" She asked him.

"Peachy. Quit asking stupid questions." He replied sourly, obviously wanting to be alone. Internally, Marco scolded himself for even bothering her with an answer in the first place.

"That wasn't a stupid question, Marco. I was only trying to see how you were doing." She grumbled. With as much politeness, she sat beside him and brushed away the whispered groan that came from his mouth.

He shuffled away from her and then looked into her shiny blue orbs. "I'm fine, see?" He said, irritable, "Now quit it."

She grimaced. "Marco."

"What, Queeny?" He spat, obviously annoyed. Didn't this girl take a hint?

"Are you still worked up about the whole bathroom incident?" She asked, sitting closer to him.

He scooched away and pinched the bridge of his nose. " _No_. That'd be a stupid thing to be mad at. It was all an accident. I got over it, and so should you." He grumbled.

"I _did_. I was just asking because you seemed pretty uncomfortable about it." She answered calmly, despite being annoyed by how rudely he was acting.

"Yeah, sure, whatever." He answered, uninterested in the chat.

"Alright then." She said.

Silence filled their area. Moments passed with them sitting on the couch, not talking, and not doing anything. It seemed a bit awkward for Star, but for Marco, it was a whole new level of awkward. God, he wouldn't be in this situation if he hadn't opened his goddamn _mouth_.

Star took a look at him. She wanted to make a conversation but decided against it. He'd probably ignore her again.

She peeked at Marco from the corner of her eye and caught him looking at her. She turned her head fully and raised a brow, by which he quickly responded to by turning his head away and pretending he didn't just check her out.

"Does anybody else live here?" She asked abruptly.

He turned his head towards her direction. "Why do you ask..?" He pondered, raising an eyebrow.

She looked at her wand. "I... I was just wondering. You had other rooms too, so I thought that maybe someone lives here with you." She assumed, playing with her wand's wing.

He frowned. "Well, someone used to... but they moved away." He replied in a sad hushed tone, that still seemed to be cold as steel.

Star scooched closer to him, and this time, Marco didn't move. "Hey, it's okay. Maybe they had to do something urgent that required them to have to move. These types of things happen, it's alright."

He turned to look at her. "Yeah, I guess so." He replied, shrugging.

She smiled. ' _Progress_.'

"Hey uh, can I ask you a question?" He asked. Immediately, he felt like stabbing himself. Why couldn't he stop _talking_?

"You're already asking one." She replied.

He frowned.

"Oh, I'm sorry. Right. Yes, I mean." She stammered. Marco ignored her blush.

"What do you do when you've lost something?" He asked, crossing his arms. He wanted to see. He _needed_ to see that she was different. It was dumb of him. He knew she must've been the same as anyone else. Nobody has ever proved to him otherwise. Although he asked a random question, Marco used to have a habit of asking something similar to see the person's response.

What would she say?

Meanwhile, Star was confused. She was sure Marco wasn't... unintelligent. He should know the basic elements of searching for something lost. "Erhm... Well... When I lose something, I search until I'm able to find it. And if I can't find it on my own, I ask one of my guides to help me look for it. Sometimes one of my guides can't find it, so I look for someone else to find it." She explained, realizing the deepness to her response.

He stared at her, no smile, no frown. Just plain staring. Then he answered. "Huh. That's smart."

She nodded. "Yes. I know. Everybody does that."

"Yeah. I'm not _stupid_." He hissed angrily. Now he felt like a moron.

She sighed, of course.

Silence.

Marco didn't bother to look at her, and the same was for Star. He had already been caught once staring, and he didn't want to bring in the wrong impression. _Yeesh_ , anything but _that_.

Star, though, seemed completely oblivious. She thought staring was just rude, and not at all some sort of romantic thing. It hadn't even occurred to her yet.

Unable to support the tension in the room, Marco decided to distract himself about this... _the_ whole day. It freaked him out, irritated him, and most of all _confused_ him.

A day like today... It was impossible. He had only met this girl, yet a string of different emotions occurred to him all at once. Confusion, annoyance, and... Well, he couldn't decipher that last one. He wondered what exactly it was.

All of a sudden, he remembered her... weird episode. She looked like she was choking, almost as if someone was... threatening her. He couldn't determine what exactly she looked like but terrorized seemed to be a good synonym.

She also looked incredibly sad.

Much like she did now.

His head turned slightly to notice that she was gripping her new dress rather tight, her eyes glossy. She looked as if she was about to cry.

"I..."

Marco turned to her fully, noting the way her crystal colored eyes became green.

"I wasn't sure..." She murmured, staring forward, letting go of her dress, "I thought I was... Why didn't you tell me?" She talked to someone else entirely, her expression barely changing; the only exception being her eyebrows shifting, her mouth moving as she talked.

Marco stopped. Who was she talking to? "...Star?" His eyes widened when she jumped in her seat and turned to him, wide-eyed. Um... alright.

"I..." The normal blue returned to her eyes and she properly looked at him, her mind coming back from her memory. An awful, memory.

_'Oh, you can't escape them.'_

She noticed the weird look on his face, and suddenly, she felt entirely embarrassed. _God_... It happened again, didn't it? Those awful... _terrible_ memories got through to her _again_.

Marco watched her get up, "I'll... be in your guest room." She muttered quietly, turning away and heading upstairs.

He stared after her, confused. Why did she seem so... afraid? Was she scared of him?

He sighed.

He didn't know.

But he wouldn't worry about that.

After all, he didn't care.

Right?

* * *

**[. . .]**

* * *

"When do you believe it is the best time to attack, sire? At this moment? Tomorrow? Perhaps even within the hour?" A bird-like guard asked, suggesting many times.

The man, or well, _monster_ , sitting in front of the glowing blue orb threw him an irritated look, which shut the guard up. He looked into the crystal ball, "No, not yet. We wait first." His steel-like eyes turned to the guard and waved him off to leave. The guard bowed and left, happy that he was out of the master's presence.

The monster looked back into the orb, watching the little Star cry to herself.

"Your light will soon _fade_."


	3. Unforgivable

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> His life had been filled with death and heartbreak, changing him for the worst. That is, until one obedient princess helped change it for the better. - [MarcoBadBoy!AU]

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello, Lovelies! Enjoy the chapter.
> 
> Warning: Mentions of Rape.

_Narrator's P.O.V_

* * *

**[. . .]**

* * *

_"My, My... I see Headmistress was right..." Someone whispered onto her ear, eliciting a shiver out of her._

_"Please... Go away..." She pleaded, earning only a sinister chuckle in return as she went limp, tired from her struggles of escape from the bound hands on her body._

_The masked guard grabbed a fistful of her hair and ran it over his mask where his lips were supposed to be, ravishing her scent. "Rose. Is that what you use?" He asked her, his low tone of voice making her gut churn uncomfortably._

_She turned away, unable to look at the horrible mask with glowing orange eyes. Amid her turn, she reminded herself that there were still the others that held her, exploring their hands. There was no end to this, it was just a cycle over and over again. She felt numb._

_Tears formed on her eyes. She didn't want this anymore. No. Not anymore._

_Letting go of her hair, he walked away from her for a second, only to come back with a baton and a knife. "How's about we have fun, no?" He asked her, an imaginary, malicious grin forming on his non-existing lips. One guard grabbed her hair and pulled, forcing her to look up._

_She ignored the terrible aches in her muscles when she started struggling against them, feeling her breath labor from moving._

_As he inched closer, her heart began beating faster and faster, fear overcoming her; **consuming** her._

_When he finally got close enough, he parted her limbs, before plummeting the tip of the baton into her—_

_She screamed._

* * *

**[. . .]**

* * *

Star bolted upright, cold sweat over her forehead. The tears in her dream had managed to manifest in her true time, and somehow the dull ache in between her legs persisted.

Her past. Again. A different night, but the same memory.

She rubbed her eyes and unconsciously placed a hand on her lower abdomen. As it seemed, her mind liked to trick her. Never intentionally, she hated when she would try to ease down only for the rest of her emotional rush to course through her already wilted and beaten body.

Her weary eyes scanned her room, trying to elope to the fact she wasn't back in that horrid place, nor Mewni. She was here, on Earth, in a completely different dimension, lost forevermore. And she was here... with someone else that hated her deeply.

She winced. What an _amazing_ recovery. Though there was someone else with her now, and though whatever happened wasn't happening to her again, she couldn't help the bit of loneliness that held onto her very soul. It was still terrifying, still haunting.

Her tears fell again. A twisted part of her felt relief that she was suffering on earth. She can't imagine ever going back. She didn't want to. She promised herself she would die first than go back.

Her shaking hand clenched her dress as she dipped her head and lay it against her knees that were pulled close, letting her tears persist. It was a miracle she hadn't cried or thrashed around. On most nights, she would wake up, but the memory would play as if she was still there. Only then when she couldn't function anymore could she be brought back, finding cuts and bruises on her despite never being there in the first place.

Tonight would've been the same.

She closed her eyes and allowed herself to feel despair.

She was sure she spent about an hour that way. Thinking, rethinking, feeling so exhausted but unable to sleep due to the racing of her heart and the blinding images that flashed in her mind. Numb tears were all that indicated that she was trying.

It was futile. The longer she stayed in her room, the more time she wasted.

Sighing, she raised herself from her bed to head downstairs. Perhaps a good exercise for her legs and some water might help her get distracted enough to forget. She wondered if it was possible to forget things like that. She ignored the welts of red that slowly faded from her thighs, even if there was none there. She often had to force herself to know that it was all part of her imagination.

She left her room with shaking legs. She felt like she was going to hurl because of how dizzy she became when she stood as if she had lost blood. Her mind shut out the day she lost her innocence and continued.

The instant ominous feeling crept onto her skin when she stepped outside, making multiple shivers run down her spine. She wondered if she would ever get used to that feeling, even after living in hell for many years.

As she headed down the stairs, loud creaks echoed from under her feet. It made the atmosphere that much chilling and she ignored the cold breezes that danced along her body. It didn't feel like Saint Olga's to her. It just felt... lonely.

Afraid to be heard, she decreased the speediness of her pace down the stairs, lowering the sound that they were booming out. The last thing she wanted to do was wake Marco up.

Peeking over the wall of some sort of food workplace, she examined the area to see if she could find somewhere to drink. She saw various cups, including some sort of faucet device... and bowls. A countertop and worn out wooden cabinets that most likely held nothing of use within them were also present. What was she to do with—realization struck her.

She didn't know _how_ to.

A saddening look became her face. _Shoot_. She needed to ask Marco now. And how was she to know if he was going to help her out or not? As far as she knows, he hates her.

She stopped. No, asking for water would be too little of a task to wake him up for. It would make her look childish and incapable of anything other than crying. Maybe...

Maybe if she tries, she can manage.

A strung of fear crossed her and she stopped to turn around. No, she had no idea how those things worked. She would most likely break the device and would create a bigger problem than what could have been. She frowned.

Although uncertain, she went back up the stairs over to Marco's room anyway. There was a hard oak door on the far end, the only one sitting alone. How ironic.

It seemed so dark as she walked down the hallway, and she kept feeling multiple eyes on her every step she took. It was beginning to overwhelm her. How was it that this home seemed just as threatening as anything else? Her mother informed her that Earth was the safest dimension. Monsters couldn't enter unless they had a special source of magic on them.

Perhaps, as many other times, her mother was wrong. Maybe her mother wanted to assure her just so that she could stay naive. If that's what she wanted, then it most likely worked. Even if at the moment it felt like the dark was going to eat her.

Fortunately, though, she reached his door. It somehow made her feel safer. Why? She didn't know. Maybe she finally convinced herself how desperate she truly was for any sort of company. As often as her mother left her, she always knew that there was a difference between being alone, and feeling lonely. She always confused both.

She knocked. "Marco...?" She swore something croaked from behind her.

Another knock. "Marco, are you awake...?"

Nothing but silence. No answer, no nothing.

She knocked again for the third time and decided that if he didn't answer on time, she would have to trespass into his room to wake him up. But was it worth it though, just for a cup of water? Yes. Partly for the cup of water. The other... maybe, confused, for him.

She bit her lip and raised her hand to knock. Taking her risks, she knocked for the third time, but nobody answered.

' _Are you serious?_ ' She thought, irritated, as she opened the door and stormed inside his room. A hint of surprise went through her upon realizing that he kept it unlocked, but she quickly dismissed it.

Getting ready to scream at him to wake the ' _mewman_ ' up, she paused, noticing the expression of sleep on his face.

His face seemed so content, so at peace. There was no frown, no angry look on his face, not a single crease.

He looked so... _innocent_.

How... Peculiar.

She inched closer and stopped directly in front of him, noticing now how messy his hair had become. It was always messy, but it seemed more... _natural_.

She could see his face clearer now in the dark, the scar along his cheek, and the mole that graced his complexion. Although the blinds were closed to keep all light away, she could see that his face... held fondness. And... it was still... _handsome—_

She shook her head. Right now wasn't the time to be doing this. She needed water, and she needed sleep. At least, to distract herself from rethinking over her memories. She shot down the screaming in her mind that was telling her she was using excuses to talk to someone other than herself.

Crouching, she moved his shoulder with her hand, "Marco..?" She whispered.

He groaned and creased his eyebrows together. He said nothing, releasing only a breathless attempt of a word from his lips.

"Marco..." She tried again, moving him a bit more.

" _Go away..._ " He croaked, moving his position in bed.

"Can you please assist me? I'm sorry to bother, but I need a glass of water, and I have no clue how to do it." She told him, moving him a bit more. Internally, she screamed at herself over what she was doing. _A princess doesn't ask for help_ , she repeated, thinking it wrong.

He tried moving her hand away but failed miserably because of how sleepy he was. Slowly, he found that he was waking up, as the darkened lights of his dream were fading away to a window. "You... can do it... _yourself_." He mumbled against his pillow, eyebrows narrowing closer.

"Please Marco..?" She pleaded, moving him a bit rougher now.

He opened his eyes and glared at her, grabbing her hand. She didn't jump, rather, her soft look became blank, staring at him intently. " _Fine_." He muttered bitterly, clearly somewhat asleep, "As long as you leave me alone and go back to _sleep_." He growled, more awake. In truth, he had been awake because of his thoughts but was only recently falling asleep.

"Thank you." She said, smiling. Although smiling, she wouldn't admit that when he grabbed her hand, it kind of scared her a little.

"Yeah, Whatever." He muttered as he got up from his bed, slipping on his blue fuzzy bunny slippers, letting her hand go. Another night, another fitful sleep.

* * *

**[. . .]**

* * *

She followed him downstairs and watched him head inside the kitchen, grab a cup, and turn on this fountain-like thing.

She pointed at that, "What is that device? It seems so complex..." She asked, approaching him.

He turned off the faucet and handed her the cup of water. He was giving her a funny look. "That's called a sink. Don't you know this?" He asked, his eyes still riddled with sleep.

She grabbed the cup of water and said, "Oh.. I... don't come from a place with a lot of mechanical devices."

She dared not to admit that she had the urge to bite this fountain of water at the school. She thought it was... something else. "Thank you," She added shyly, noticing the way his angered expression relaxed to surprise for only a second.

She raised the cup to her lips and drank the water. Marco, for how much he credited himself to hate looking or doing anything related to the princess, was watching the interaction with extreme preciseness. Upon realizing what he was doing, he looked away, angrily staring at the wall.

"I guess so." He said, shrugging.

She stopped drinking and grabbed a piece of cloth she happened to have at the pocket of her red pajamas to wipe the cup.

She then handed it to him, nice and dry.

He stared at her. "Are you some sort of clean freak?" Marco asked, making a face. _Stop asking obvious questions_ , he hissed at himself.

She crossed her arms, glaring. "I for certain, am _not_ , Marco. I just like helping people by giving them less work." She told him honestly, offended.

"Hilarious. I know back home in your ' _castle_ ' you order and boss people around to do all your bidding, _princess_." He told her, placing the cup back where it was rightfully supposed to be.

How was it that her royal title sounded like an insult coming from him? "I do _not_. Why do you accuse me of such things?" She asked him, frowning.

He emitted a distasteful snort that bubbled anger in her. "It's not an accusation if it's true," He replied, waving her off.

She fumed. "You know what? You're _insufferable_. There's no use in telling a person like _you_ something they won't understand." She told him bitterly, ready to head up the stairs and leave.

He narrowed his eyes at her. "And you know what Queeny?" She didn't know why she saw so much hatred in his eyes, "Fuck. _you_."

"Language." She warned, gritting her teeth. Was this really how he was going to treat her? She's never done anything wrong! This was the last time she would ask for his help. A princess doesn't need help from lowly scum, anyway.

He scoffed. "Language my ass. Go back to sleep, you're ruining mine." He told her sourly, shoving past her and climbing up the stairs.

She was about to tell him something else. She was going to tell him how much of a stupid idiot he was; she was going to tell him that he's been only but an asshole to _her_ —that he was such a rude human being with no _pity_ —but stopped when a noise that resembled a bell echoed throughout the room they were currently in.

Marco stood still.

He glanced at the door with narrowed and suspicious eyes, curious as to who would be knocking on his door so late. Nobody ever visited him. Nobody gave a fuck about him either, so it would make sense. So who in their right mind would want to talk to him, especially this late?

Grumpily, he went back down the stairs, muttering, ' _Who the fuck is at my door at this time of night?'_ under his breath.

He opened the door rather violently and Star had to move back as to not get hit. She glared but he didn't notice.

Upon opening the door, they saw a man cloaked with a dark outfit. The night was pitch without the functional lights and light rain littered the outside that made the cloak look like rubber. Marco raised an unimpressed brow. "Get lost, whoever the fuck you are." He snarled, shutting the door closed. Jesus, what the hell was up with this evening?

But the man's foot was in the way and the door didn't close as Marco had wanted it to. The man reopened the door. "Is it you, Marco?" It asked, sounding a little deep.

"Who the hell's asking?" Marco yapped. Not again. Not another one of those people.

" _I am_. Now move over, the cops are on my ass." He told him urgently, pushing Marco away.

Marco grabbed his hand, "The fuck? Don't touch me. Get the fuck _out_ ," He threatened, ready to fight this guy.

The man glared at him and ripped his arm off Marco's grip, before pushing him onto the floor and quickly closing the door.

Star immediately acted and stood in front of Marco to block him from any attacks the man was going to do, pointing her magic wand in the stranger's direction. With narrowed eyes, her voice lowered into a threatening hiss, "Don't. _Move_."

He removed his cloak and gave her a smirk. "And if I don't? What are you gonna do? Blast me with your make-believe princess wand?" He asked, his piercing green eyes making her halt.

Marco rolled his eyes and stood up, telling Star to put her wand down.

"But he broke into our—I mean— _your_ home! Is not that known as trespassing?" She asked him, lowering her wand.

Marco sighed and said, "Yeah it is. But I know him." In truth, the only reason he allowed him inside was that he knew that he would insist to join him back into a group that was going to die at some point.

A grin formed on the stranger's decent face. Star wasn't sure why it seemed attractive to her. "I'm Oskar, Pleasure to meet me, I'm sure. And what's your name, cutie?" He stepped closer to her.

Star stepped back, glaring at him. _Nevermind_. "I'm Star. And truly, the pleasure is all in your head." Her eyes turned dark.

Marco stepped in front of her, "Whaddya want?"

Oskar scoffed upon taking a good look at his appearance, and his stance in front of this hot blonde lady. "God, what happened to you, Marco? You're acting stupid nowadays."

Marco's eyes hardened. "I _grew_ up. Unlike you who still does stupid shit in front of the cops." He replied sourly, scowling.

Oskar grinned. "I don't know Marco, I heard from around here that you've been doing some stupid shit of your own," He pointed at Star, "Don't tell me it involves you and that blonde babe. Have you been bangin' her?"

Marco's eyes flashed—He hadn't expected the people around to have known about her so quickly. Then again, he had let her go outside to get rid of the gigantic piece of junk she called a carriage. _Damn_.

He raised his middle finger, "Fuck you, pencil dick. And no. I haven't been ' _banging_ ' her." Marco replied bitterly, absolutely disgusted that he would make such an assumption. It was always like this with him.

"That's a shame," Oskar replied as he looked at her up and down, "If I were you, I would've smashed her already. Prude."

Star raised a brow. "Excuse me? What exactly does ' _Banging_ ' and ' _smashed_ ' mean in your language?" She asked, crossing her arms and narrowing her eyes.

Oskar smiled sweetly at her. At an attempt to step closer, he was rudely pushed back when Marco went in his way. Oskar frowned. Marco knew him too well. "It means nothing. Absolutely nothing." Oskar ended up saying, not up for having his butt kicked. Oskar had always been taller than Marco by a few inches. To his surprise, Marco went above him by a couple now.

"That's what I thought," Marco growled at him. "Now, tell me. What the fuck are you doing here?"

Oskar casually sat on the couch and pulled out his smartphone, placing his surprisingly clean shoes onto the coffee table. "I was with the gang. Hanging out, chilling. You know how it goes." Oskar said, tapping away.

"I don't," Marco deadpanned.

"Right. Anyway, we stayed like that for a few minutes, until bitchy Britney wanted us to go kill this other girl that apparently 'stole her makeup'." Oskar said, making a face at his phone screen and waving around his hand.

"You're talking about Cheerleader Britney right?" Marco asked, sitting down next to him. He hated his crew. They were the worst when it came to normalcy.

Oskar nodded, looking up.

"Don't tell me you _listened_ to her?" Marco asked him, rolling his eyes.

Oskar snorted. "I was bored."

Marco face-palmed. "See, this is why I left your gang. You guys are always getting yourself into fucking trouble and bring it somehow somewhere near me." Marco growled at him, bitter about the fact that the trouble always remained its fault on him. Not that it was new. Oskar treated him lightly, but... Well, being forced into something to avoid anymore punches to his face isn't exactly comforting.

Star walked next to Marco and sat at the far end.

Oskar noticed her movement. "Hey, Marco. Is she like your bitch now? She keeps following you." He pointed out, making Marco turn to her then back to him.

Marco gave him a look. "Seriously? You're being a stupid prick again."

Star crossed her legs, and since she was wearing her nightwear dress, she exposed some of her thigh available for Oskar to see. It wasn't much, but Oskar was pretty much a dog with a bone.

Oskar whistled. "Damn Marco. Ima be honest, she looks like stuck up hoe, but if I could hit it, I would."

Marco gagged. "Please stop talking about girls. I swear, you always used to make me sick when you did that."

Oskar still kept on staring, Star unaware. "Aw c'mon Marco. Don't tell me you haven't thought about fucking her at least once. Just—Just look at her!" He grabbed his head and turned it towards her direction, "Look how thick she is!"

Marco swiped his hands away, blushing slightly. "Shut the fuck up, you perverted asshole," Marco grumbled, absolutely flabbergasted.

Oskar chuckled. "See! I told you! You're turning red!"

Star looked at them and wondered what the heck they were talking about. Was it the way she was dressed?

She took a look at herself, feeling content on what she was wearing. It wasn't too revealing and it wasn't too ugly. It was just right.

"What's your companion laughing about?" She asked him, smoothing out her dress properly to look presentable.

Marco shook his head and sighed. Stupid, utterly stupid. He hated this guy. So much.

Oskar stopped laughing and said, "We're laughing because Marco here doesn't want to admit that he would smash y—"

Marco punched him square in the jaw. "Shut. _Up_." He hissed at him, his face flushed. No. _No_ , he did not think of Star like that. _At all_. _Ever_.

Oskar groaned from the pain but kept on laughing nonetheless.

Star watched them both with confusion, somewhat glad that Marco punched this 'Oskar' kid. "Marco, can he leave now? I'm starting to feel uncomfortable with him around." She said honestly, as she had always been rather direct. They trained her to be.

Marco glared at the fallen boy with crossed arms. " _Definitely_. The cops _must've_ passed by now."

Oskar stood up and brushed the pain of his jaw away, sauntering over to her. Sitting down, he grabbed her waist, pulling her close. "Aw, c'mon Blondie. You don't _really_ want to get rid of me, do you?"

He inched his face closer, and she pushed him away, all used to this action. Even before Saint Olga's, guys would always try and talk to her, flirting too much for her amusement. "I would rather you leave. I don't find you much helpful but rather, _annoying_." She sassed.

Oskar chuckled and removed his hand from her waist. "She's a bit hardcore. I like it." He told Marco, who was watching them with slight jealousy.

"Fuck off," Marco growled, standing up to get the door for him.

Oskar while laughing, stood up, grabbed his coat, and headed for the door. "I'll see you eventually, Diaz. And you too, sexy." He blew a kiss at her, and she mockingly waved the air to tell him she wasn't interested.

Once Oskar left the building, Marco shut the door harshly, turning around with the glare still evident on his face.

Marco turned to look at her afterward. He found that she was picking at something on her wand.

"How distasteful," She muttered and glared at the door.

Marco said nothing.

It's not like he wanted to. Or could.

He was too distracted by the way her eyes became green to say anything about that.

And of the piercing cold that suddenly entered the room.

* * *

**[. . .]**

* * *

Janna tripped and fell, scratching her knees onto the hard pavement below. "Aw, shit." She said simply and stood, dusting herself off.

She could faintly hear Jackie and some other girls begin to snort and emit loud snickers from where she was, making her suddenly aware that she was in public. She often forgot that. Not that she cared.

Janna started to assess the damage. Okay, so it wasn't so bad, but they were pretty scratched. It stung, too. Dumb, stupid, sidewalk. Why did they exist? Using the void to walk is much better.

Looking back and finding Jackie and her crew now minding their business, or, as it seemed like they were, she continued her casual walk. And as she walked, she felt her knees sting from the mild wind that blew at them, gently peeling open her skin more and more. The impact of the floor below scratched her hard enough to draw blood on her knee, and now, she was going to walk to the pizza place she was supposed to meet someone in with blood dripping down her leg.

Worse yet, she was wearing shorts this day. People could easily see blood pouring down her leg. Strangers she didn't even know often asked her about her knee, and she was beginning to become annoyed by so many stupid questions. Of course, she was fine. She lost an arm once but she got it back, and nobody asked questions then, so what the heck? Have they never seen a bloody corpse walking around or what? On second thought, maybe she was just being overdramatic about it.

Swallowing her annoyance, she arrived at the Pizza place earlier than she expected to.

Opening the door, the bell above jingled, grabbing some people inside their attention. Tom included.

"What happened to you?" He asked her, scooting over to help her sit.

She sat down and grabbed a napkin to place it over her knee wound. "I wrestled the ground." She answered, pulling away when the napkin stuck to her skin. Okay, bad idea.

Tom issued her a flat look. "You're kidding." He replied, and offered her some more napkins from the table, "Are you sure you didn't just... I don't know, _fall_?"

It was Janna's turn to look at him. "No _shit_ , you unicorn. _Of course_ , I fell. How am I going to wrestle the ground without my wrestling suit?" She asked as if it were the most obvious thing.

Tom blinked. "Okay, well, that's fair. And I have two horns, actually," He corrected, causing her to hum.

"It's one horn. And yeah, true. I sort of deserved that." She conceded, bunching the napkins she took from Tom to wipe again at her wound. It didn't hurt as much.

Tom grabbed the menu with a roll of his eyes, which caused some people around him to quietly scream in fear. He regarded them all with raised eyebrows.

"Sounds like some peeps are scared of ya." She said with a smirk, pouring some water on another napkin and wiping it across her calf.

Tom placed the Menu down and gave her the stink eye. "At Least I didn't eat shit."

She copied his face. "Dipshit."

He beamed. "Shithead."

She kept on glaring at him with his smile still intact for a while, until they both broke out in a laugh. "You're so stupid." He said, rolling his eyes.

She stuck out her tongue at him and got up to throw the bloodied paper into the trash bin. "You're just saying that because you don't wanna admit I'm smarter than you, numbskull." She countered, granting him a small leer.

She sat back down.

He rolled his eyes, smiling playfully at her. "You wish, Baggy."

"Whatever. Why'd you called me over here anyway? You know how busy I was trying to oversleep." She told him, giving him a look.

Tom cleared his throat, "You know exactly why I called you over here."

A non-girlish snort came from her nose. "I already told you, I'm not doing all this girl shit for you. I don't wanna dress up like a fucking thot." She replied, tone irritable.

"Look, it's only this once. This could make her jealous, and make her come back to me!" He told her, grinning as if this plan of his was a great one.

"Yeah, but can't I wear something more comfortable? I don't go good with mini-skirts and crop tops." She told him while calling over a waiter.

"Fine. Fine. You won't have to wear anything _too_ hoe-like." He smirked.

Janna shook her head with annoyance. "You see? Even you admit that if I dress like that, I'll look like a _whore_." She hissed, punching him lightly against his shoulder.

Tom winced at the punch. How strong was this girl? "Aha _right_."

A frightened waiter appeared, shaking. "Hh-hello..m-ma-may I t-take your o-o-order?" He whispered shyly, eyes widening each time he took a look at Tom. Although very attractive, he looked... really scary.

Janna grinned. " _Finally_. Okay uh," She looked at the Menu briefly before turning to him, "I'd like a half Cheese half pepperoni pizza."

"Please," Tom added for her.

Janna narrowed her eyes at him in puzzlement but turned back to the shy waiter with a cunning smile.

The waiter quickly nodded and left, running back to his previous position.

"I think some people don't really like your Demon appearance, Tommy," Janna told him, staring after the waiter.

Tom shrugged. "I don't care. I like mine. Maybe they're scared of yours." He told her, snickering.

"Scared? Of me?" She faked surprise, "Not surprised." She puffed, drumming her fingers on the table.

Tom looked intrigued. "'Not surprised'?" He asked, wanting more of an explanation.

Janna shrugged, leaning back on the big smooth sofa. "I'm kind of the local witch. You know, little of this, little of that." She said, brushing off her clothes.

Tom's curiosity stopped. "A witch?" He asked, narrowing his eyes. He didn't believe it, not for a second.

"Yeah. What? You think I'm not?" She asked, offering him a smug look. "Check your pockets."

Tom immediately patted the pockets of his jeans, finding not one of his items—except his cheap chapstick. His eyes widened and he looked up towards Janna, finding her holding onto his red wallet and a set of keys. "I'm surprised you didn't even know." She said, throwing them onto the table.

Tom took them and issued her an uneasy look, "Actually, I'm pretty surprised too." He agreed, pocketing his things.

This made Janna laugh. "Chill, chill. I'm not gonna rob you." She dismissed. She paused. "Or kill you."

"How does that make me feel better?" He asked, raising an eyebrow.

"It doesn't." She replied cunningly.

"Wow. Thanks." He mumbled, making her grin.

"No problem." She said and lightly hit his arm.

"Ow, shit—That hurts _you know_." Tom snapped, pouting.

Star was never this strong, not like her... Plus, how did those punches hurt? He was a demon. He shouldn't feel pain. Maybe if he reads it off the demon book his mother gave him, he could know. This was a serious issue for him. He hoped he wasn't getting Magma Fever...

"Not my fault you're weak," Janna commented, crossing her arms and leaning back.

"Ha. Ha. Very _funny_ ," He told her, sarcasm evident in his voice.

Janna punched him again.

He yelped. " _Ow_! Fuck, okay, can you _not_?" He said, clutching his arm.

She smiled in turn.

* * *

**[. . .]**

* * *

Star looked superimposed in the mirror, scrutinizing herself one last time. Although she thought of her ribboned dress repugnant, she admired how well her red bow complimented her red shoes and white stockings. It was enough for her to believe to be all dressed up for the day, allowing herself to walk out of her room and head for the kitchen to cook some breakfast. She had to be useful _somehow_.

Marco still wasn't up, considering how late he stayed up after the... certain _event_ , that occurred. And speaking of which... That encounter didn't exactly give her a good edge to this dimension. I mean, when has anything ever been peaceful or non-weird for her?

Even so, since Marco was asleep, this gave her a chance to prove how much morals she held. None of that 'Spoiled Rich Bitch' nonsense. Whatever _that_ meant.

Looking around, she tested her knowledge of the kitchen and opened some cabinets up. A frown found her way to her face when she found nothing inside them. Why wasn't she surprised?

She opened up the fridge and found the same result. Part of her edged onto concern and she questioned whether this earthling Marco ate at all. Another part of her was annoyed at the thought that she had to create the food with magic. Perhaps the annoyed part of her caused her to forget about the care and instead bewitch his soul for lacking consumables. Maybe.

Grabbing her wand, she tried one of her basic spells. Maybe this is what her... _mother_ was talking about when she meant she needed to practice her magic. It was odd, considering the hellbent place she came from had only taught her to contain her magic.

Aiming her wand at the counter, she mentally baited herself with strength as a blast emitted from her wand. It hit the table and she watched as a plate of food manifested onto the surface, causing her eyebrows to shoot up in surprise. Well... certainly that was a success. With more confidence, she altered her mind again and copied the same exchange onto the other side.

It took her a while before she could get a simple meal of bacon and eggs for Marco, and it took her even more time before she could find her favorite breakfast meal. She didn't exactly know what Marco liked. Well, she held no ounce of knowledge about him. Which, didn't bother her. Not at all.

Standing by the kitchen chair, she set up the table mannerisms just like they taught her.

Knife on the right, spoon, and fork...

' _Put the knife in the correct place! You need to learn, or be punished!_ '

_No_. Knife is on the right along with the spoon. The forks sit by themselves beside each other on her left.

' _See? Was that so hard_?'

She closed her eyes upon feeling a sharp pain where her heart should be. From within her throat, she felt bile rise and she clutched her chest when she felt her breathing increase helplessly. Her hands began to shake and her legs felt weak, resembling recognized exhaustion. It was the exact feeling she had gone through for four years in Saint Olga's.

Her breath was shallow. She felt scared all of a sudden. Impending doom was in the air, and she expected to die and nothing more and nothing else mattered. Something was out to get her. She knows. She doesn't know.

Her body shook and her hand gripped the fabric of her pretty dress.

She attempted to ease her emotions down. She couldn't bear to take part in one of her memories again, especially if she tried so desperately to keep them down for as long as she's been here.

She counted to _three_.

She breathed.

She counted _backward_.

She exhaled.

Her eyes opened and briefly. Images flashed where Marco's home should be.

Princesses chanting the same etiquette over and over chimed in chorus from each image, and the sensation of dull faintness came from her arms and back from standing so straight and still. She felt like she could break, and suddenly, the images broke away to her reality.

Dizzy. It was dizzy for only a few moments. It was only a matter of time.

"I need help..." She whispered to herself despairingly as she finally moved her legs and set up Marco's table on the other side. The confusion was unmistakable. She was unaware of who this Marco was but by sheer bashfulness and because her supposed training in Saint Olga's was permanent in her veins, she set up everything for a morning breakfast. She was taught that a kitchen worker should do this for her. But she thought otherwise.

She always did... And was punished for it. She felt pain in her chest again but it was quickly ruled away.

Without another thought, she sat down on her chair across from Marco's plate and began eating.

She didn't feel like eating. No, rather, she felt like puking everything out.

Her mother insisted that she eat. Star never understood why. But by authority Star was unable to deny her request. The bright black-and-white images were implemented in her brain. Her mother was a queen. As Queen, the following orders were just as strict for a princess. It was what the bright screen said. And she remembered.

She can't let her mother down. She needed to be the proper princess her mother wished her to be. The strong, independent type. Her mother sent her there for a reason.

But she hadn't improved. She thought she did. A certificate of graduation was granted on her behalf and though the headmistress looked her up as a great treasure to the butterfly kingdom, Star had not learned anything. Forced as it was, she learned nothing but pain.

Sometimes she wished her dad was here. Maybe if he hadn't been gone the day her mother sent her away, perhaps her mother wouldn't have transferred her to that horrible place. Her mother would've changed her mind and let her stay instead. Her father knew that a place like that was corrupted. He would've known better than to send her there.

To send her where she could be beaten, tortured.

To send her where she could be... raped.

Where she could be **_Strangled_** from her innocence ** _._**

But... He wasn't there. He had left to fight off something she didn't know of, something she—

She dropped her knife and fork, not up for eating anymore.

Tears tinkered with light from the window of the kitchen. Her eyes poured such emotion, and just as before and many times previous, she felt the sinking in her heart and the pain that stung her over and over again.

Her lips quivered in sorrow and she hated that as she cried, her memories played as a rewind meant for torture. She was always like this, no matter how hard she tried to forget. It was no use.

She covered her face and leaned away from the table to allow herself to let go. This... She was so tired of this. She didn't want this.

This ache... It... It wasn't worth it.

Sobbing, she grabbed onto a napkin on the table and wiped her tears.

For how long she stayed that way, she didn't know. Tears fell and the sheer amount of mascara applied by a single stroke of her brush remained to stain her cheeks. Nothing else could be done but grieve. She was never allowed a choice.

It was a long time. She knew that. But when she realized she didn't care. She didn't even want to stop.

It wasn't until she heard someone approach did she do so to look.

It took her a moment as she brushed the cloth of the napkin over her cheeks to observe who it was. And much to her surprise, her eyes widened slightly when she saw Marco seated in front of her, looking at her in blankness.

She looked away and wiped at her red and puffy eyes.

"You're crying." He muttered, picking at his eggs, and bacon. He clamped his mouth shut and then glared at his food. _No shit_ , He told himself bitterly.

She looked at him, tears still streaming down her cheeks.

He wasn't even looking at her. He was just sitting there, chewing and picking at his food.

"I know." She whispered.

He looked at her, his eyes just as broken as hers.

* * *

**[. . .]**

* * *

Toffee stood up and pressed a buzzard on the wall made of stone.

" _Hello_?" A deep voice called from the small speaker.

Toffee made a face. "Yes hello, Emmitt. I would like to bring Lieutenant Ludo up here. I have a mission for him."

" _Right, away Sire_." The monster spoke and clicked the line.

Toffee returned to his office desk and sat himself down, waiting.

* * *

**[. . .]**

* * *

"I need you to go to dimension Terra. Or, as others partake in calling it, the Earth Dimension." Toffee told Ludo, his voice ice cold.

Ludo sighed. "I'm not so sure if I'm up to all this. Do you have any idea how hard it is to move my soldiers into that dimension? Gravity really is my enemy!" He flailed, glaring and cursing at the ceiling.

Toffee looked indifferent. "I don't care. I need you to ambush Princess Star and grab the wand. I sensed she's at her weak point now, which makes it the perfect time to do so." Toffee explained, eyes as hard as steel. He had a plan. And although it sounded rather plain, he knew what he should do.

Ludo glared but bit his tongue out of respect. "I'll do my best." He said uneasily.

Toffee held his cold glare. "Good. Now go. I'll expect you to bring me the wand by the end of the day." He said, monotone.

Ludo nodded and left, grumbling out how stupid and obnoxious Toffee was.

Toffee watched him leave, a small smirk falling to his reptilian mouth.

* * *

**[. . .]**

* * *

Marco wasn't sure of what to do as she quietly sniffled to herself other than eat. She refused to look at him and part of him was glad because looking into her saddened eyes made him wilt. But as for that... he was completely stumped.

He hated people who cried. It was just so _uncomfortable_. He had no idea how to comfort someone. He remembered in his past that he would attempt to be there for the people in need, simply to be pushed away and belittled for trying. It taught him not to get involved with anyone. It taught him not to care. As tough as it was, he learned eventually.

He observed her silently as he chewed on his food. His eyes scanned her lovely features, studying her pose and stunned peculiar by the way her eyes shone blue and then green the next. Was it just his imagination to what he just saw? Or was it real?

Baffled, he stopped eating, curious. It genuinely seemed that she was crying for something other than stupid problems with friends or... other things. And it seemed just as real that her eyes were changing to the color green at each waking moment.

He bit his tongue from asking. It wasn't his place to ask. He shouldn't even care that she was crying. Maybe she deserved it.

_Maybe she's helpless._

His frown deepened. It's not his place.

He isn't a kind person. He only worried about himself. Worrying for others results in more problems irrelevant to him.

Yet... As he regarded her cautiously, he couldn't help but feel as if her experience was of utmost loss. It felt to him as if he... _understood_.

That word tasted foul on his tongue.

It wasn't right to feel that way. It meant that he cared, and he was sure he didn't. He hoped.

But seeing her like this... her plush and pink heart cheek marks breaking slowly from the middle, he felt... something.

And it just... He couldn't explain why he did.

He wasn't sure what that feeling was. However, it was undeniable what he felt.

**BOOM!**

They both jumped and Marco immediately stood from his chair to scramble out the door and see who or what caused that noise outside.

Once out, his eyes widened with denied fear at the setting present in front of him.

There stood Ludo surrounded with about 10-30 army men, a wicked smile stretched across his cheeks.

Star followed right after him, paling once she saw what caused the ruckus.

Her voice was barely audible, but he heard her.

"Ludo..."


	4. Weakness

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> His life had been filled with death and heartbreak, changing him for the worst. That is, until one obedient princess helped change it for the better. - [MarcoBadBoy!AU]

_Narrator's P.O.V_

* * *

**[. . .]**

* * *

"Master Ludo, how do we know where Princess Star is located?"

Ludo ripped a pair of dark-colored scissors away from one of his minion's hands. A menacing grin stretched on his beak from doing so, feeling a sort of giddy that rode him up a wall. "Easy," He said, jumping and ripping the fabric of reality, "We find the bright colored cottage Toffee bestowed us in his magic ball!" He explained, stepping through the portal.

A loud boom resounded the moment he dropped on the ground due to them spawning the portal on high terrains, finding the pretty house they called cottage right in front of them. His small set of army-men followed after, standing beside Ludo in three rows of ten as more sound became eminent.

Ludo raised his fist to indicate them to pause with an evil look on his face. The only reason he agreed to this mission was to get ahold of the wand. He's always wanted it since Star's birth, upon witnessing it in action when Queen Moon attacked his former soldiers. It was bright, powerful, and that's all Ludo needed to begin his little devious plan. So of course, with a higher chance to get the wand now, Ludo chose to heed Toffee's orders.

His eyes locked right on Star who came out running, ignoring the puny human that appeared first. He noticed the fearful look behind her angered facade from where he stood, and his ever evil smile grew wider in size. Ah yes, so he presumed her mother had told her about him and Toffee... Not surprising. It was good that she did.

Ludo found it pride-infilling to know that Toffee wasn't the only one who received that reaction.

With his fist still in the air, he opened his bird-like palm, "Attack!" He yelled, feeling the wind pick up around his beard when he heard the cries of his men, their huge bodies running past his tiny frame.

It was time, and as the small army trotted towards the yellow home, Ludo followed after, determine in his veins.

He would get it this time.

* * *

**[. . .]**

* * *

The instance the army ran towards them, Marco froze in place. His widened eyes went regarded to Star, noticing the sudden glow of her lustrous orbs—green, he realized. The panic that almost made her shake made his gut twist with unease and a cold wave of chills that felt like water rush against his back. From what he could tell, she knew who they were.

He faced the army and found them closer.

Star froze and looked at her wand shakily, realizing something.

_They were going to die._

"Marco," She breathed, standing in front of him now, "I need you to hide. Or run, it's not safe." She told him desperately, quickly turning around, her back to him, "You need to find somewhere safe." She muttered, her eyes regaining back their color, arms stretching forward, raising her wand right at the enemy.

Marco's expression hardened then, "What are you talking about?" He hissed, recoiling from her, noticing the panic she had, "I—" He didn't even get to finish, for she had shaken her head and ran to them, leaving him.

Oh, the irony.

Marco's eyes had narrowed further and he grumbled something, looking down at his hands. He balled them, shaking his head. He wasn't a coward. Sure, he had no idea what to do, what to feel in a situation like this, but he had the experience. In fighting, that is. So to hell with hiding, he wasn't going to leave Star to this. It was surreal, and this was probably all some freak show prank, but it seemed _real_ and it seemed _there_ , and he wanted to punch something. And since he hadn't got the chance yesterday, now was a perfect time.

Plus, something inside him told him that he shouldn't... leave her to do this alone. Again, the same nagging frustration of before returned to his unforgiving self.

Catching up to Star, he noticed that her wand had shifted to her right hand, and the expression on her face was more... angry. And although she looked so determinant, so willing to attack, he didn't know why he didn't sense that vibe from her. All he could see was the fear flashing in her eyes, and the wobble of the ground as the huge monsters rampaged towards them.

' _What's going to happen?_ ' They both asked unconsciously to themselves, their answers almost equally negative. How were they, two teenagers, one a magical princess and one a learning boxer, supposed to fight 30 monsters? It just... _There was no possible way_.

His doubts would have stopped him from doing anything if not for the sudden collision of his body against a large fist, feeling the slight metal of their armor almost through his hoodie.

The breath left his lungs and he stumbled back, suddenly aware of the fact that these... were _monsters_. They were actual _monsters_. And they were here, not mythical like he was led to believe, but _here_ , and in the mood to kill them. This didn't even sound real anymore.

Groaning in pain, he locked eyes with the same Monster, who was now swinging at him with the very same fist.

Marco luckily managed to move out of the way, but uncharacteristically lost his footing and fell backward. Immediately, however, he rolled out of the way and stood up, only barely ducking when the monster swung at him with a spear.

But wait... The monster who punched him didn't have a weapon. So this was another—

He was knocked back hard enough to slide against the asphalt, releasing a quiet hiss when he did so. His skin under his clothing was scratched only slightly, although his head and bottom hurt mildly.

Another monster was again in his route, and Marco almost yelped quietly, dodging the monster's sword that hit the ground just in time. Shit, there were too _many_.

While moving, yet another monster was there, almost hitting him against his head if not for the fact that Star blasted him away.

He looked towards her with surprise, finding her currently preoccupied trying to annihilate a few away. There were too many.

Too _many_.

Star halted and her expression formed an impassiveness to it, hiding the overwhelming look she had earlier. It was almost if... She was debating something grand.

Without much thought, as it seemed that more monsters were well on their way towards them, Star ran towards Marco and blocked him, her mouth releasing a small puff of breath.

Slowly moving her arm in sync with the mild wind around her, she positioned herself at the most perfect stance she could.

Using all her willpower and the knowledge her mother taught her about her wand, she closed her eyes, her cheek marks brightening in color for a split second.

' _Fire, Ginormesome_!' Her mind screamed, her wand releasing a gigantic blast headed straight at the monsters.

A few bright flashes happened afterward, lasting at about 10 seconds at most. Marco covered his eyes because of how bright it was, only taking the mind to uncover them when he felt the air around him relax.

Once it cleared, most of the army was either gone out of existence or injured. A good few of them were unharmed and more prepared than the rest, as it seemed that their armor had only minor burn marks.

Star opened her eyes to see the damage she caused, and blinked, frowning. It still wasn't enough.

The remaining monsters continued charging at them, Ludo right there with him. Like the coward he was, he hid behind them, knowing well what enormous power the wand had.

Marco stood up sloppily and looked over at Star, asking her silently what was next.

But Star was elsewhere now, leaving him to fend for his own. Of course, what was he thinking? He needed to... _fight_. He felt a course of unrealistic dizziness form below him. Fight? He was fighting something? Monsters? They... These things weren't real.

He shook his head. They had to be. He felt them hit him and saw them trying to kill him. They were real enough to hurt, and that's all that mattered.

Noticing a monster up ahead, he ran towards it, relocating out of the way only when he realized another was coming at him from another side, stopping his attack.

A third monster, wielding a shield and a dagger, came close to brandish her weapon at his face the moment he moved, but Marco stooped and delivered a punch over to the monster's head.

The metal of the helmet went flying, and Marco hissed in pain when he knocked it off. His knuckles were red, some drawing blood because of how the sharp, dull-looking metal cut against his skin.

Marco kept going besides his injuries however, somewhat focused, somewhat distracted. Attempting a kick against another monster's exposed stomach, Marco took a small glance at Star, hearing the monster groan and stumble back. He looked quite agitated rather than worried, his eyes narrowing a bit in her direction. He only had the sense to look away from her when the Monster stood up and thrust a bat with sharp prickles right at his face.

Marco had, of course, shifted his body in an angle to successfully move.

After being thrust the bat, Marco went ahead and grabbed it on the prick-less area, pulling it away from the monster before giving it a good swing.

The Monster fell and Marco stepped back, dropping the bat to look at Star again.

He kept looking at Star, over and over and over again. He wasn't sure if he was just... _looking_ at her, or just making sure that she was alright.

Marco had a keen sense to realize that she was, in fact, not okay. Although her fighting style looked pretty focused and formulated, Marco couldn't help but notice a miss in her step and faintness of fear in her eyes. It looked like she was ready, but... nervous.

While looking at her, another monster ran at him unexpectedly, and Marco, due to hearing their groans, thankfully took a dive to another place, nearly avoiding. But it wasn't fast enough, because the tip of the spear it wielded cut against his cheek, opening the skin with a deep slice.

He touched his cheek and seethed, seeing his blood trickle down his hand. His eyes had widened and he winced, shaking off his palm, seeing the thick droplets scatter with carelessness as his blood ran down his jaw and drop onto his clothing. It looked all too familiar...

Shaking his head and turning to the monster, he glared, sneering. There was no point in assessing his injury despite its immense pain, for he knew that he would be finished in a mere second if he didn't think or move fast enough.

Using all his might, he swung a kick to the monster's stomach, effectively knocking it on the ground. Mildly, his leg had numbed to pain.

Marco then grabbed the fallen spear and sunk it into the monster's face, squinting when some of the monsters green blood splatter onto his black hoodie. It mixed around with his own. A few small droplets of blood from his cheek rolled down to land onto the monster's dysfunctional face.

Star, near him, blighted two monstrosities away just to liberate herself for a moment to check on Marco. A sudden sense of alarm coursed through her when she saw him pull the spear from one of the monster's face and toss it onto the ground, taking note upon realizing one of his hands coated with red. The side of his face had an indecent amount of the same color, and it took Star a moment to realize that what she was seeing was... blood. _His_ blood.

Suddenly, a burning and piercing pain sprung from her shoulder, eliciting a deep cry from her.

Her knees became weak and she fell onto the ground, tears embedding in her eyes, prickling around the edges. She heard a deep cackle rumble from in front of her, causing her to look up and take to blame of who...

Ludo stood before her, wiping a tear away from his eye. "All it took was this? P-Pathetic!" He laughed, clutching his stomach.

Stare glared, her hands gripping the rubble of the ground and her wand. The sudden change and rush of this emotion caused her teary eyes to instantly dry, and her sudden strength labor to miles. She understood this feeling and had felt it the _very_ day she was taken from her home.

Without much hesitance, she ignored the unbearable pain from her shoulder and reached behind her to remove the object with all the strength she could, whimpering a bit before bringing it down and stabbing the bird onto its stomach.

The laugh immediately ceased and he stared, red blood coming out of his midsection. His clawed bird-like hands weakly held the knife's handling in place, eyes blown wide, shallow breaths replacing his wheezes. He looked up at Star with the same look, the light leaving his eyes.

The bird fell backward, his hands now clawing at his abdomen, trying to remove the knife in a desperate motion.

Trying not to _die_.

* * *

**[. . .]**

* * *

Upon hearing a scream, Marco turned away from the monster he had stabbed, eyes abroad in bewilderment. He looked around for what or who made that noise and locked straight onto a small creature. And...

His legs had kicked into a running start without him even thinking, and all of a sudden, he felt a tiny pinch of a feeling he thought he would never have again—suddenly realizing he was _scared_ about this whole situation. And suddenly realizing he began to feel—

His shoe heel slid and decayed in the slightest of ways against the ground when he stopped running in an abrupt halt, his wide eyes becoming even wider upon witnessing Star take out the knife from her shoulder and plunge it into the small bird creature.

He could instantly recognize the anger in her eyes again, much more ferocious the first time he met her, much more vengeful. He could feel it in his very core, his broken and torn bones, sensing his body rattle in a shiver at the burned image.

All of a sudden, the few monsters that were out of it but came back were now going for her, becoming aware that she had now, at the same time, stood up, to begin blasting at them mercilessly.

Marco forced his legs to keep running to her, trying to keep the focus on the brightness of green from her wand, and trying to focus on her now emerald colored eyes. The deep gash on his cheek and his bloodied and worn knuckles stung as the air lapped at them, opening them even more to instruct more pain.

Unaware of Marco's sudden determinant approach on her, Star clutched her shoulder, using her wand to blast one monster after another, blowing them up in smithereens.

' _You must keep your head in battle. Fight for your life. Fight for your family. They'll come for you eventually, and you must be prepared to protect the wand, and yourself_. _Never let the enemy laugh at your face, never demonstrate your **weakness**_.'

The words of her mother rang inside her head as her icy glare was regarded from monster to monster, blasting and blasting until she couldn't find anymore, even going as far as to blasting complete carcasses, erupting them in juices of livid death. Her eyes were just as livid as the death around her, green in color like her eruptions. And even though she felt a small crack on the inside just waiting to be let out, she could not stop for a second until she made sure every one of them was gone.

_I know that feeling._

Marco touched her shoulder and she turned to him sharply, pointing her wand directly at his face. He stepped back and held his hands up in defense, his eyes narrowing upon being threatened with the wand.

Her ragged breathing released from her plump lips were in forms of harsh puffs of air, her crystal colored eyes rigid with anger. The blood of her deep stab soaked at her dress, her beautiful pale skin now smudged with crimson.

"You must be a fool," She hissed at him, her green eyes flashing once more in a bright glimmer, her mouth forming a hating sneer.

Marco took a glance at her wand and noticed the way she was holding it shakily. His eyes brought themselves back up to hers. He matched her glare, daring her to do something, warning her silently.

But then he realized something. He hadn't even considered the fact that she must have been shaken up, so much so that she wasn't acting... like herself. He knew about those sensations, in his past. And even, now.

So, he contemplated to himself, reconsidering her actions because of her bloodied shoulder and the way her hand dripped her very essence. "Star," He started easily, her expression instantly softening, "It's over," He said, emphasizing to the pretty much fucked up monsters around them, "You're okay, you're safe. But you need medical—"

"Don't tell me what I need and don't need. I am a pledged individual who is fully aware of what she's doing," She hissed at him, pressing her wand right at his chest, "And I for one will not trust nor partake in your tomfoolery." She growled, causing her wand to glow ominously once more.

Marco lowered his hands and his expression became stoic. _This wasn't working_. "Star, it doesn't matter that you 'know'—" He added quotation marks with his hands, trying not to feel the irritation bubbling in him, "—what you need. You need to be aware of the fact that you're _bleeding_ ," He pointed at her shoulder and she lowered her wand, "And that you need serious medical attention." He explained, narrowing his eyes. This was stupid, he was wasting time, and the longer they stood talking, the more blood they _both_ lost.

Suddenly, Star's green eyes became lidded as she clutched her head, her bloodied hand staining her pretty blonde hair. Her once green eyes became a normal color once again, and she fell, her grip on her wand fading and falling as well.

Before she was able to hit the ground, however, Marco caught her, trying not to release a hiss of pain when the sharp sewing of her dress came in contact with his burning knuckles. Her face was pale when he took a good look at her after ignoring the pain in his knuckles, his expression softening in the slightest. "...Star?" He asked, surprised by how soft his voice sounded.

Star blinked slowly, responding only with silence.

Marco cursed in his head and took no time to waste in bringing her up, propping her onto his arms in a bridal position. Her blood-soaked dress stained his fingers when touching the material, and he made sure to be careful in not harming her wound. Her hand that she used to hold onto her shoulder was stained red, the tips of her fingers dripping blood, the very same blood that ran down her arm up to her forearm. Although he was becoming weak as well, he needed to take her to the hospital. He wouldn't have cared, but unfortunately, he was a man of morals.

Taking a last look around, he winced and looked at her, "You have to listen to me. You have to keep yourself awake, I'm taking you to the hospital. Try staying conscious, or else you're going to pass out." He told her, seeing how her eyes blinked slowly.

_Die. All the people you know will die._

All she managed to do was release a small gust of breath before being carried away.

Marco began to run towards the direction of the hospital, not before picking up her wand and stuffing it into his pocket.

_Let her die._

* * *

**[. . .]**

* * *

Without an inch of shame nor regret, Janna grabbed the 3rd slice of pizza from five and stuffed it into her mouth within a single motion. She then began chewing on it, humming as she reached for another slice.

Tom watched her, feeling less self-conscious now that he saw her eat. For someone so surprisingly tiny, she had a knack for a large appetite. He's seen it in anime before but in real life? It was kind of scary. Himself didn't count. He... naturally had a big appetite.

At Least he didn't have to use his manners around her like he was taught to do with any woman. He was comfortable with himself the tiniest bit, so that's a count.

"Your pizza's getting cold." She told him, swallowing her food and biting at the other slice she got, this time much tamer. She had been hungry before she came to accompany Tom today and was _dying_ for a whole horse load of pizza. "It's gonna be a shame if someone that rhymes with Banana steals it for herself with no regrets," She joked, staring vacantly at the slices of pizza in front of her.

Tom snorted at her attempt of a joke, shaking his head in amusement. "Shut up, Baggy." He replied while grabbing onto a slice and biting it himself.

She grinned at him and wiped her face with her sleeve, setting her piece down. "So," She started, leaning her head on her hand, "You still haven't clearly explained what we're supposed to do."

Tom put his slice of pizza on top of a napkin, swallowing his food. "You wear something my type of girlfriend would wear, and we try and make her jealous. Simple." He explained, mimicking her pose.

She rolled her eyes at his response. "That's the worst plan I've ever heard." She replied in turn.

Tom scoffed, "I don't hear a better plan coming from _you_." He said rather offended, pouting.

She scratched something off her teeth and blandly looked at him, indifferent. "Actually," She said, smiling, "I _do_ have one in mind."

At her response, his offense became a curiosity, and he felt sudden intrusiveness that allured him a little. "A plan? From you? What a shocker." He said, making her grin.

"Always full of them. Anyway, I suggest—How about we scratch the part where I wear dumb hoe stuff, and instead, I wear my type of thing to show that you respect what your girlfriend, known as me, is wearing and doing? Then from there, you can sweet talk me if we ever encounter them, making her jealous." She told him with an inch of smug, picking up her pizza again.

He stared at her, his eyebrows raised. Huh... That wasn't so bad of a plan. It was a start, yes, and it was similar to his, yes, but it seemed effective. Although it was a bit too petty for his liking, he couldn't argue against it because he believed that by demonstrating he respected and devoted his attention to her, Star would be jealous and fight for _him_.

Baby steps, yes, and this seemed to be perfect enough. How surprisingly smart. "That's..actually not that bad of an idea.." He said, tapping his fingers against the table, contemplating.

"Duh," Janna said, ignoring the sudden spark his eyes gave. What exactly was he thinking?

In a sudden motion, Tom stood up in alarm, "Let's do that right now!" He told her, getting up and grabbing her wrist.

" _Seriously_?" She cried, bored, as he dragged her along, "I still haven't finished my _pizza!_ "

* * *

**[. . .]**

* * *

A sudden horror had befallen his expression the moment they arrived. His calm nature became sorrow as hers traded for blankness.

While heading to Marco's home, they had spotted numerous amounts of small damage from a crack on the sidewalk, to dumps of potholes and debris. It wasn't long until they came up to a gruesome scene of dismembered, headless, bleeding, torsoless monster bodies. Janna had been the first to react with a small look of disgust upon viewing the intestines sprawled around, very much feeling... uneasy.

Of course, there had been a few bodies still intact and some she presumed to be alive, but that didn't help at all.

Tom was second and immediately set out to search for her. He had a feeling this would have occurred, and he didn't have time to be reacting to the bodies up close. It was as if it were to be something automatic that clicked on inside him, a worry he had felt for so very long. Although her ex, he still cared for her. It was a stupid thing to keep, but he knew even before that creatures of other realms were after her. And he couldn't help but worry.

"Shit..." Janna muttered, kicking at an arm and turning to Tom who was still searching. "What the hell happened here?"

Tom shook his head in reply as he looked around the bodies finding Star nowhere in sight. He fell onto his knees and looked onto the rocky ground, eyebrows creased together. "I... I don't _know_." He mumbled, grabbing onto his head. _Shit_. How did they find her? Was she gone now? Did she die? Where _was_ she?

He felt a firm grip on his shoulder and looked up.

"Look," Janna started, obviously a little awed yet uncomfortable about the whole scenario, "I know how you're feeling right now. And first of all, don't panic," She eased on him, making him frown, "Secondly, if she were to be dead, then her body would still be here. From what I've seen, those bodies look fresh. It couldn't have been so long ago." She explained to him, casting him a small calming smile. Ugh, being nice felt... _weird_.

Tom didn't seem to feel at all better from that response, however. It only further worried him, because if her body wasn't here, _someone_ must've taken her. And who?

A sudden painful, sharp groan was suddenly gasped from behind them. Their heads both turned towards the noise, confused. Janna found that a bird-like creature was bleeding to death, the knife still embedded within its stomach. She winced at the scene, thinking better than to go over there to poke at it.

Tom was different. The moment he saw him, his eyes became a color of fiery red, and he zipped towards Ludo, grabbing him and holding him in the air. "Where The _hell_ is Star?" Tom growled threateningly, holding onto Ludo's throat so tight that he began sputtering and coughing out his blood.

"She... left. We—We don't have her..." Ludo struggled out, breathless so because of the strong grip of Tom's hand.

Janna approached them indifferently. She began to assess the situation calmly as she used to when she was younger, taking note of what she saw and heard from the weird bird thing. If they don't have her, then maybe Marco does, since this area was almost directly in front of his home. Part of her was surprised nobody had noticed this yet.

"What do you mean she _left_? Where could she have gone!?" Tom asked, shaking him slightly. He needed answers, and he needed them _now_.

Ludo lifted his finger weakly, pointing towards the direction Marco and Star went to. "She," He coughed and gasped for air, eyes going wide for a moment before returning to normal, "Went with... this boy..."

Tom's eyes turned back to normal, feeling his soul get crushed. A boy...? Was it the same boy Janna knew?

"Do you know where they were headed?" Janna asked Ludo, her voice normal. Tom looked at her.

"They...said..some type," He gasped again, "of... hospice...or Hosp-tal.." He replied, struggling for the right word. The poor bird was too focused on not dying to even reply to their questions.

"A What? That isn't enough information! Tell me where she is, or _else_ —"

While Tom continued with his rambling at the bird, Janna went ahead and thought of the possible Hospitals around her. There were three close by, but only the Echoing Hospital was in the direction the bird pointed at. It would be a wild guess, but it was worth a shot. She turned to Tom, "They went to the hospital, moron," Janna said, making his bewildered expression amend to a calmer one, "I know where it's at."

Janna turned back to Ludo, "You said they went that way right?" She asked him, pointing to her right.

Ludo stayed silent, and gasped again, his eyes closing. He managed a simple nod.

Tom tossed him on the floor and began floating without a second thought. "You said you know where it is?" Tom asked her, urgent. They were wasting too much time, _way_ too much.

Janna nodded, and he reached his arm out to her. "Here, I'll carry you."

She took it and yelped when he took off quickly. She hung on as if her life depended on it, and he stopped. "Sorry." He muttered afterward, setting himself on the ground.

"Here," He pointed at his back, "Piggyback is better."

She snorted, "Alright, _alright_. Quit your worrying, Star's fine." She said, getting on.

"I hope so." He said weakly, setting her comfortably before taking off to the air.

* * *

**[. . .]**

* * *

_Marco's P.O.V_

* * *

**[. . .]**

* * *

I never thought I'd be in a situation such as this.

It was unreal— _so unreal_ that I can't ignore it anymore. It pisses me off, so much, because so many things occurred at once, and of course, I'm always the one in charge to take care of it.

A part of me was like this. Pissy, angry, so bothered about everything that I felt like I could _burst_.

But another part of me couldn't help but feel... uneasy about all of this. I wasn't so in control of myself anymore, and I sure as hell wasn't understanding anything. Especially when it came to the lovely foreign girl in my arms.

Well, not— _not_ _lovely_. Because I still didn't like her around me. And I swear I never will. She's insufferable, and I know she hasn't... done anything so extreme to provoke that thought, I just hate this. Hate company. Hate her. For bringing in the company.

Sure, it was my fault for even offering my place in the first place, but it was the world's fault for bringing her to me, of all people. I didn't like people for a reason. I hated her. I hated everyone.

But... here I am, looking— _feeling_ so tired that I can't even keep up my original pace anymore. Yet tired, I'm still using up _my_ energy, _my_ time, for someone who probably doesn't _deserve it_.

And it was so stupid. So fucking stupid. I could've just left her. Just, right there, and wait for someone else to find her to call the cops or some shit. It was so _easy_.

I... couldn't, though.

Something made me stop, some... emotion that was slowly growing. It felt like Pity, maybe annoyance, but it was... _some_ emotion. I don't know what it is. It made me feel like something was expectant of this—as if I expected something— _someone_ to... I don't know. It was so recognizable, but I haven't felt it in a long time. I don't know what this feeling is.

It happened a lot when I met her, when I looked at her, and when I... spoke to her. The past two days had been continuous feelings, of... _this_. I just couldn't understand _why_. And I was pissed off. Also suspicious. So... it was technically her fault for making me split up. Not that I could say that to her, she'd probably find it weird. Not that I would ever tell her _anything_. I wasn't her friend or something.

I took a small moment to look at her, considering her a little. Although pale, and pretty much looking like she was dead, I still found it infuriating that she looked pretty.

I can't deny that. She was pretty. Very pretty.

She was so pretty that any other guy would have probably been _much_ more willing to take her into their house or something. Funny, though, I can't bring myself to do that unless she asks for it.

It was sickening.

Because she wasn't _just_ pretty. She was... _Ugh_. She looked foreign, or something. Sure, she looked pretty much human, but she looked... foreign a little. Like. Not foreign, but... something. She had a very pretty nose and flushed cheeks, and though she looked pretty pale, her lips were still a lovely peach. The hearts on her cheeks threw me off for a little when I met her, but those only _complete_ her look. It was like... She was more like a model of sorts, just with everything slightly more perfect.

She was... something. A pretty something.

But I could honestly care less. I just didn't want her around me, that was _it_.

Which was a little funny on my part, because currently, this is the closest I've ever had her. And it was _not_ because I liked her. I just felt like I had a job to help her. As I said, I had a _feeling_ of sorts.

Maybe I had this feeling because she was pathetic. Because it certainly wasn't because I was _good_. Or being _nice_.

From what I had seen earlier today, she was very... conflicted with herself. When she set up the table, when _I_ , saw her set up the table, I could see that she hesitated. I wouldn't have paid it much attention if it wasn't for the fact that she looked petrified, almost as if she were... holding some sort of trauma.

It was stupid. Holding onto something. Whatever it was, that she went through. The past was the past, and there was nothing anyone can do about it.

I shouldn't be talking like that, though. I had no right. I was just as pathetic as her. Maybe even more so. I had some trauma myself.

Sure, I agreed that holding onto the past was stupid, but I felt such things because the past is only full of hurtful memories that are improbable of changing. It was impossible to go back in time and change them. All those mistakes, words, _feelings_...

It made me sick. Sick and tired of everything and everyone's bullshit, because no matter what, things change, people change, and the world you once knew crumbles down into oblivion.

I had to force myself to know not too long ago, maybe when I was 13, 14 tops.

When I lost my parents.

My parents, well, to be perfectly honest, I don't have an exact memory of how they died. They went on a vacation together while I was left alone in the house, with their permission of course. It hadn't even been two days when the news got to me. I remember vividly who came to tell me, my Godfather, who I thought I wouldn't see only for boxing lessons.

I could never forget that.

And it was the past.

And I couldn't change it.

I couldn't make it, to change.

Which was probably why I was doing this, for her.

I looked at her once again only to notice she had worsened, which wasn't a shocker. Luckily though, when I looked up, I could see the faint sign of the hospital in front of me. Wow, and to think I'd take a while from how slow I was going.

Although I felt like I could fall, I decided to force myself to keep going. It wasn't long now to arrive; just a little more. Plus, after I could leave her there, I could go home and fix this stupid cut on my cheek myself.

I don't think she would've liked it if I left her, but frankly, I don't care. She isn't awake to tell me to stay, so I can't stay. Simple.

"Hey, you!" Someone screamed from behind me, making me confused. Who the hell is trying to bother me while carrying a dying girl in my arms? People never mind their business, do they?

I turned around to check and see who or what was calling me, only to find some demon flying, with—was that... _Janna_? Are you _serious_?

The demon came charging at me directly, his eyes looking like red hot magma.

I had to dodge it of course, but it was difficult since, well, I was carrying Star. And I was fucking _tired_.

The demon had barely missed, and I could've sworn Janna was laughing at me for the lack of speed. Of course, always laughing at me. Not that I expected anything less.

"What the _hell_?" I bellowed, absolutely confused as to why they were on me. And what the fuck, since when were demons _real_?

"Let go of her!" The demon yelled, Janna idly casting me a frown before returning to her normal smugness.

I groaned internally, tired as shit.

Great, More _Bullshit_.

* * *

**[. . .]**

* * *

_Narrator's P.O.V_

* * *

**[. . .]**

* * *

Marco had to stop for a moment to recollect his bearings, his eyes narrowing into slits. With a sneer, he stared at the demon as if daring him to charge at him again.

"Let go of her," Tom repeated much more evenly, still floating up above, mindful of Janna who looked a little amused.

Marco scoffed, his hands gripping a little tighter onto Star. "Is that supposed to intimidate me? If you haven't already noticed, someone is _bleeding_ to death." He replied, not at all perturbed from the demon before him.

Tom's eyes returned to normal and his face changed at the mention of her. " _What_?" He asked, stunned, "What happened to her? Is she alright?" He lowered himself onto the ground and Janna got off of him.

He ran over to Marco, his heart beating a mile a minute. When he got a good look at her, he realized, she was in fact, bleeding. _Shit_.

Tom went to touch her face, but Marco stepped back. "Don't touch her." Marco hissed a little too protective, feeling a little internally confused from his tone. He masked it with a look of anger, though, "I don't even know who you _are_." He hissed, and Tom glared at him. Who was this guy?

"You can't tell me what to do, asshole. I'm—" He paused, thinking, "Her Boyfriend." He finished, earning surprised looks from both Marco and Janna.

"I thought she broke—" Janna started, but Tom shushed her, putting his hand over her mouth. Janna glared at him in response, ripping his hand off.

' _She had a boyfriend? She never mentioned any..._ ' He shook his head in frustration, taking off in a full sprint towards the hospital. Just one problem after another. He didn't want anything to do with this girl and now look at him. A pissy demon boyfriend was on his ass now, probably thinking wrong just because Marco was holding onto her dying form. He never did anything, and whenever he tried to help, people would blame him. It's why he stopped giving a shit so long ago.

Janna watched Marco run away in confusion, making a face. Did he look, bothered? "What— _Shit_ _!_ " She was suddenly thrown up in the air, landing right in an angry Tom's arms.

He took off as fast as the speed of light, catching up to Marco in no time.

* * *

**[. . .]**

* * *

Marco felt his head turn from how unsteady he was due to his energy draining away. This wasn't good. At all. Especially after that whole stunt.

His face formed an expression of annoyance and anger, taking a look behind him with a warning look. All that time wasted just for a pissy demon boyfriend to enhance her death. Stupid. _Stupid_. Ugh, what was he thinking? The opportunity was _right_ there.

Right _there_. He could've given her to him and been on his merry way.

But again, this... feeling overcame him. It was annoying and desisted from him getting rid of her. Somehow, it didn't feel right.

And instead of feeling relieved, he felt rather suspicious. He didn't know who the hell that was, and he wasn't about to let him take her just because.

' _You could've gotten rid of her._ '

Marco closed his eyes for a brief moment, shaking his head. Stupid. So _fucking_ stupid.

Opening his eyes with an angry flare, he looked behind him to check if that demon guy and Janna were still on him, sighing in annoyance when he saw them. Fuck. Why. Just, _why_? Can't he catch a break? He's been through _enough_ already.

He returned to the road in front of him, a small twinge of relief running across him when he saw the large building, and its sign. Odd, he could've sworn it was miles away last time he checked.

' _Echoing Hospital_ '

With all his strength, he used the least amount of energy he had left in him and ran as fast as he could to reach it. Many people, paramedics, turned around in bewilderment upon witnessing a boy carry in a girl that looked pretty much dead. Marco paid them no mind, as he was too focused on getting Star safe.

He bolted through the doors, alarming some of the medical workers inside along with the patients. He wondered if this was the emergency room.

Tom went in right after him, a determined look in his eye.

"Someone—she needs help. She's bleeding to death," Marco stuttered with a high voice, noticing the sudden action that took place of the nurses calling in a couple of men. He allowed them to take her away from his arms and they immediately fell as dead weights beside him. They were sore to the bone.

"Someone take her to room 502!" A nurse yelled, scribbling a couple of things down onto a piece of paper, urgent. Good, they were doing their job.

Followed by a bunch of scurries of feet and clippings of paper, the nurse at the front shakily typed down the event, shifting to Marco with a small inch of fear. "How old are you, babycakes?" The nurse cooed lightly, frowning.

Marco didn't appreciate the name and was about to reproach her about it when he was suddenly pushed onto the ground with full force.

Janna looked mildly surprised by how hard Tom dropped him onto the floor, ignoring the quiet gasps of the people around. Okay, that felt kind of good to see. A little. Funny, yes?

Marco kicked Tom off of him, gritting his teeth in anger. "What the fuck?" Marco seethed, his head pounding despite trying to ignore it. "The hell's your _problem_?"

Tom stepped back a few steps as the impact of his kick rattled the souls in his body, causing them to scream and hurt his head. He recovered quickly, however, and his hands went aflame.

Marco ducked the moment the fireball was shot at him, wobbling a little. He was in no state to be fighting, especially against a fucking _demon_.

The fireball had hit the nurses' workplace in his place which caused the nurses to scream and run out of the building. The patients around had stood up and some even moved away from the scene, their eyes so wide they could fall out. Demons are supposed to be fictional, not _real_!

" _You,"_ Tom growled, " _You_ must've done this to her!" Tom yelled at him, throwing another fireball.

Marco moved away, "Do you honestly believe I was trying to _kill_ her when I was the one trying to _save_ her!?" Marco yelled back, absolutely flabbergasted. He knew it, he always knew. Yet he felt surprised, he always did. He was just trying to _help_. Why wasn't anyone ever able to see that?

Marco was thrown off guard when Tom had thrown a punch at him. His mended fist missed and connected against the wall instead of his face, and Marco blinked the stupor away. He left a small fire and a very visible burn marked dent on the wall as he pulled away and attempted another punch in Marco's direction. At every turn, following after Marco, he kept throwing angered blows.

"You're a fucking _Liar!_ " Tom roared in denial.

Marco sneered at him, swaying around to dodge Tom's mediocre attacks. This guy was too angry to even fight well.

Dizzy and weak, Marco threw a punch at Tom's head at a sudden open opportunity, managing to topple him to the side.

Tom didn't feel it, but he sure as hell wasn't expecting it. He returned one of his own, and this time, Marco was hit. It made Marco see various Stars, but not enough to throw him dead on the ground. He's been on multiple fights, and Marco's gotten used to getting hit. Even if it hurt like all hell either way.

Janna patted at another small fire and put it out, rolling her eyes. She turned to Tom who was still trying to kill Marco, bored and irritated. "Tommy, _dude_ ," She told him, going over to pat down a few more fires, "Chill _out._ You're going to set this whole damn place on fire!" She yelled at him, approaching the fight to stop the demon from hurting Marco even more. At this rate, he was going to burn everybody.

Tom wasn't even listening. He didn't care. He saw red only, and when Janna saw that Marco had fallen and Tom was going to burn his face, she stepped in, holding her arms up when he threw a blast of fire right at them. This caused a scathing burn that managed to hit one of her forearms, causing a scorching heat to peel her skin and draw blood.

Marco's sights broadened when he saw her suddenly hiss out a whimper of pain, staggering back a bit in breathless pants as her hand reached over to hold the non-burned part of her arm.

Immediately, Marco stood and moved back when Janna fell out of the sheer pain of having her meat cooked alive, shocked beyond everything that Janna of all people had swung in to protect him.

He looked at the girl and then at Tom, who had stepped over her and continued to advance on him as if he hadn't just burned his so-called friend.

Marco glared at the demon. "So you're just going to hurt her and not care?" Marco hissed threateningly, scolding himself again for defending yet another person who wasn't worth his sympathy.

Tom stopped in his tracks. "What?" He yapped, sneering at him.

Marco's stare was intense. "Her," He pointed at Janna.

Tom's anger suddenly weighed down. "...What?" He asked, much softer.

Marco felt angered relief that the demon began to lower his defense.

It was then when Janna spoke. "What the hell is wrong with you?" She hissed quietly, glancing away from the sizzling pain and onto the shame-faced Demon standing in front of her.

Tom blinked in surprise. "What?"

"What do you mean, _what_?" Janna asked, and stood, "You're going to act stupid after what you just _did_?"

Tom stepped back in shock. And then he angered. "What I did!? I didn't do anything! He's the one who hurt Star!" He cried, pointing an accusing finger in Marco's direction. Again, his eyes had shuddered to magma.

Marco bristled in place.

Janna slapped Tom's hand down. "Oh yeah? And what about this?" Janna lifted her bloody arm, "You're telling me he did this too!?"

Tom stared at the wound. And then he stared at her, confused.

"Yeah," Janna scoffed, "Act confused. Act as if you didn't just cook my skin," She spat, and for once, she felt so mad that she hadn't thought things through.

Tom glared. "You're saying it was _me_? It couldn't have been! I was the one protecting—"

"You weren't protecting shit!" She barked angrily, "I was the one helping your sorry ass, and then bam!" She fisted her shredded arm, "This happens!"

Marco stepped away when he saw Tom blaze fire from the tips of his horns.

Janna stood her ground when his glare became beyond bloody. "He was helping her," Janna muttered bitterly, "Marco lives with her. _Together_."

"This was your fault," Tom hissed darkly, and diminished his flames as he stepped closer toward her, "You were distracting me."

Janna pushed him back and almost felt herself combust. Was he being fucking serious!? "What the hell are you _talking_ about? I wasn't distracting you, _moron._ This makes no damn fucking sense. You're at fault for chasing somebody who was just trying to help, and for burning my fucking skin off!" She barked back at him, completely surprised to have taken the blame.

Although she shouldn't be, Demons tend to be angry enough not to know what the fuck they were doing. But this still wasn't fair. She was innocent in all of this. Some part. And she knew that demons forget things when they're angry.

Tom walked to her slowly, leaving a trail of fire as he did so. "You're lying. That's all lies. You're just making up excuses." He countered, throwing a fireball, barely missing her.

Janna thought better than to feel worried. "So you're going to act like that?" She asked, glaring, "Fine then," She grabbed something from her pocket, keeping a careful eye on the demon. She hoped he wouldn't try anything. Or else, it was his ass.

Marco looked at the scene before him, indifferent and numb overhearing Janna's words. He still felt pissed, bothered, fucking angry that he could burst. The only reason he was holding back was that he was weak and tired.

Tom grabbed her wrist to hold her back the moment she threw something. He hadn't realized again that he had grabbed the harmed one.

* * *

**[. . .]**

* * *

Star sat up in alarm and felt her heart immediately slow, her hands shaking, tired. The doctors stepped back when she bolted upwards, "Miss settle down—"

Star could feel the small stitches pull at her shoulder and she winced, getting up from the bed anyway. The doctors held her down, her eyes flashing green. "No, no, don't— _don't touch me_!" She yelled pushing them away. She stood up and tried to run, but fell against a wheelchair. Her head felt dizzy, and her body shook. She could barely _breathe_ right.

Someone grabbed onto her shoulder and pulled her back, and she turned, attempting to whack them in the face. "No, no, no, _no._ " She repeated over and over again, reaching for the wheelchair and then running out of the room, holding onto the walls for support. She could hear the doctors yelling at her to come back, telling others to go after her, but Star didn't listen. She needed to do something.

* * *

**[. . .]**

* * *

Star saw the small welts of blood on the corner of the woman's arm Tom was holding. She gasped and leaned onto the counter, "Tom, Stop!" She yelled at him, her voice almost leaving her. She could barely breathe.

All eyes turned to her with sudden alarm, and for a moment, she felt self-conscious. But she remembered to keep a level head in situations like these. She was so used to it anyway, after being punished for not doing so in past years.

Star maneuvered herself towards them, her eyes as cold as ice. No emotion. Just blankness. However, there was an etch to her that looked like she was about to pass out. Marco could instantly tell, she wasn't fooling him for a second.

His eyes losing its fire, Tom blinked, surprised. He then turned to Janna who he was still gripping tightly, noticing the pain in her eyes.

' _I did it again_.' He told himself harshly, and let go of her immediately, his eyes wide. ' _I did it again..._ ' **You idiot. You knew you hurt her, and yet you denied it. Pathetic demon.**

Janna clutched her wrist, careful not to touch her sizzling skin. It was _burning_ , so much so, she couldn't even focus on Star at the moment. It just felt like swelling pinches of pain on her exposed skin, stinging by sitting still. She needed water, something cold, _anything_.

" _Shit. I'm sorry, I just—_ ** _Ugh_** _. I got pissed again, and if I do please don't take it personally, I have a very low temper_."

She heard his words repeat in her head, and briefly, she glanced up, noticing that Tom was now all eyes on Star. He didn't care. He didn't care that he burned her.

"Star?" Tom started, moving towards her.

She put her hand up in a 'stop' motion, making him halt on his steps. "Don't start, Tom. You know just as well as I do what's going to happen next." She told him evenly, suppressing a gasp of air. It was hard talking when her blood pressure was so low.

Tom felt anger boil up from within him. Janna took notice of his anger again and stepped back a little to be cautious. He noticed the movement and felt his anger deteriorate away.

Star sighed. "Tom." She began, shaking her head, part from disappointment, the other for trying to remove away the dizziness she felt.

Marco looked at both of them, expectant.

"Yes... Star?" He asked, a small amount of... a feeling sparkling in his eyes.

Her level gaze hardened, and her soft tone replaced itself with scorn. "Please leave." She told him finally.

Tom closed his eyes and exhaled, trying to calm his nerves. As it seemed, Tom was yet again in this situation. If it weren't for his anger, he would have avoided so much hatred from anyone around him. He just couldn't control it, no matter how many classes he took. It was annoying. And it was careless in his part. "If..." His eyes opened and he looked right into her own, frowning, "...If that is what you wish..." He told her gloomily, "Then I shall."

Marco wouldn't admit that upon seeing the stupid demon so hurt, he felt a small twinge of twisted glee. Overall, he felt confused. Normal people would have felt pity, but he wasn't about to sympathize with an unworldly _creature_. Especially after that stunt, he pulled with... _Janna_.

Turning his head, Marco could see some of the medical worker's approach Star and take her away because, as it seemed, from what he heard, she was in an unstable condition. He glared when they gripped her tightly and took her, but relaxed when he made a valid point that they were only trying to help her. Ugh. Why should he be feeling so... out of place? They were only helping her.

As Marco idly sat down with a huff, Tom snapped his fingers, a bright red portal opening from behind him.

Janna frowned.

He turned to her then, a look of absolute guilt making its way onto his face. It seemed he wanted to say something, but he decided against it.

She watched his face form its resentment, it's guilt, and for a moment, she realized it was just who he was. Tom was an angry individual. More so than anyone else. In the next, though, she turned away, ignoring him, setting herself down to sit somewhere else away from... everything. It wasn't right, to be burned. It wasn't her fault, not at all. And though Janna didn't exactly feel anything, she couldn't help for the first time in a long time, to feel unjustified.

Tom closed his eyes tightly again, his chest twisting a bit upon her reaction. This time, he decided, he was going to leave Star alone. He didn't feel like he was up to it anymore. He hoped this was his last time bothering her because no matter what he said, he always ended up coming back.

Marco watched as the portal of the underworld closed, the brightness of the fire now leaving the room. At his departure, Marco suddenly felt the weight of his body, and he slumped, tired. His vision became blurry and his legs felt weak, a sign to remind him that he had overworked himself. Today was the day he had most moved since... ever, and for once, instead of focusing on his depressing thoughts, he was focused on his health and well being.

An older woman approached him after he sat around for ten minutes, offering to help him out with his condition. Marco would have refused, but honestly, he was too tired to even care.

So, with a sigh, he agreed.

* * *

**[. . .]**

* * *

Janna looked down at her wrist, frowning. To find herself in a situation as this is blinding, but to live it is unreal. It was weird, she felt weird. Not sad. Not mad. Anymore, at least. Tired, maybe, but not anything else. It bothered her that Tom had accused her, and it also bothered her how, at that moment, she felt... something. Not scared. But some sort of resemblance to it. It was weird.

Maybe that's why she felt bothered, weird.

"Hello, ma'am?" A male voice asked her, timid yet concerned.

She stopped looking at her bright flesh to look upon a young male. He held a first aid kit in his hands and it took her a second to realize he worked here.

"C-can I assist you with something? You need to be treated with that..." He told her, pointing at her arm.

Janna glanced down, coming back to reality. "Oh... huh... yeah. Can you?" She told him, and then she remembered something, "Please?"

He nodded and opened up the medkit, taking out some peroxide and bandages. "What's your name?" He asked her while taking out some of the things.

Janna knew he was probably nervous and was just making small talk. "Janna." She told him simply.

"Oh, what a nice name! My names Tim, but peeps just call me Timmy." He told her, looking up at her with a gleaming smile.

Janna wouldn't bother with nice introductions. "Nice to meet you, Timmy." She replied anyway, not bothering to smile.

"Likewise."

* * *

**[. . .]**

* * *

Tom, upon entering the portal, found himself in his room. Misery and guilt had settled within him the moment he stepped through, and it took him all his will not to fall on the floor and belittle himself to death. He knew that chasing after Star was a bad idea, but he did it anyway. And he had hurt too many innocent people in the process.

Anger coursed through his veins as it always did, and for the second time in his life, he hated himself so much more than anyone gave him credit for.

He lay down on his bed and looked up at his ceiling, hands crossed on his stomach. A book with skulls looked back at him, and he instantly remembered. ' _Check demon book_.'

He sat up and floated towards the book, taking a hold of it's worn off edges as he heard the inner turmoil of the multiple souls in his body screaming at him to set things right. He squashed them down, as he knew that he had to make it up to the people he hurt anyway. He didn't need the stupid souls to remind him of how of an asshole he is. He already did that himself.

Opening the book, he looked at the table of contents, ignoring its red eyes blinking at him.

' _Horns... No.. Firepower... No... Treasures...? No. Ah, there it is!_ ' His eyes brightened when recognizing the small title: "Pain if Shone", and he turned to the page it stated in.

On the page, bold red letters appeared. "Why are you suddenly feeling pain? Not mentally, but physically?" He read out loud, and below the question, there was only one answer:

_You have found your significant other. It is best to be cautious around them; if something were to happen, a demon will burn to death. Things to do when or if you're around them: Cherish, love, and accept. No acceptance will lead to sudden death_.

Tom's eyes widened.

If Star caused him pain, maybe she truly was his other half.

Maybe he was just denying her.

Ah... But he wasn't aware of how wrong he truly was.


	5. Request

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Enjoy.

* * *

_Narrator's P.O.V_

* * *

**[. . .]**

* * *

Marco stared at the tiled floor of the hospital waiting room, anxiously running his thumb over the bandages wrapped around his knuckles.

He was sitting down and waiting for Star to be released from her room, as it had been told that she would need someone to take her home. He wouldn't have stayed if not for that, and he also wouldn't have stayed _because_ of that, because from what he felt, he wasn't about to be a lap dog for anyone.

Unfortunately, if he wouldn't have remained, he would have felt the same feeling he felt earlier, and damn him if he ever feels _that_ again.

As he waited, he revised the events of today, trying to grasp any sort of reality in it. He fought monsters, he almost had someone die, in his arms no less, and a pissy demon who was supposedly Star's boyfriend tried to attack him. Whatever happened today would never make sense, and it made him feel even weirder because he just gladly accepted it.

He didn't even realize he had accepted it. He was just too focused on—

"Marco Diaz?" The receptionist called from the front desk.

He looked up, indifference reflecting on his face upon being called. His eyes instantly locked on Star who was sitting in a wheelchair, her dress replaced with a hospital gown that hid her chemises underneath. She was staring at the floor like he was earlier with an off-look to her face, clearly just as lost as he was. He brushed the thought of her being mistreated in there away from his mind.

"Yeah, that's me." He replied in turn, standing up with his muscles still sore and aching. He almost winced from the pain.

The nurse relaxed a little at his even tone, placing a paper and a pen down on the desk. "I need you to sign here, sweetie." She stated, turning back later to her computer and typing away.

Marco thought it was immature to reproach her about the name; he decided to simply sign it and get it over with.

"You don't have a parental guardian?" The Nurse then asked as her brows furrowed together upon reading the computer screen.

Marco gripped the pen and stopped for a second, his chest giving a sharp pain. "No," He replied and finished filling in his name, date, and time. Why would she even ask that question? Legally, he was an adult. No use in asking irrelevant questions. He briefly wondered if he should remind the woman of his age, but he discarded that thought.

Star, who was not too far from him, took notice of the strain in his voice. She didn't do anything and only mindlessly listened to the treatments the nurses recommended for her to use to get better. She would rather not mess with his issues. Whatever they were.

"Are you Marco Diaz?" The nurses who were talking to Star asked, moving away from her and approaching him.

He glared. "Yes." He bit his tongue.

The nurse offered him the little ointment bottle along with a piece of blue paper with a forced smile, "May—"

"Miss, it's alright, I can apply the medicine myself," Star said, her voice loud and clear.

Marco narrowed his eyes further and the nurse shamefully walked away nodding her head, telling Star a million times sorry.

"Sorry," One of the other nurses interjected, much younger than the rest, "We thought you were—"

"We'll make our way out." Marco interrupted rudely, taking the bottle and walking over to Star. _They can't be serious—everyone just **loves** assuming things, don't they?_

To not make the nurse feel any worse, Star offered her a polite smile, "Thank you for being so kind and attending my injuries. I'll be sure to give you your payment in day's time." Star assured her, making the nurse nod and walk away.

Marco took the handles of the wheelchair and headed off, not before putting the objects he was given in his pocket where the wand was. He'd forgotten he even _had_ it. Reconsidering, he handed her the wand, and Star took it with great grace.

"Thank you," She told him, a frown still gracing her features. She looked surprised as well.

Marco couldn't tell because of the hair in front of her face, but he'd assume she still looked... the same.

With nothing else said, he left the building, rethinking as he always did with his constant confusion and misery.

* * *

**[. . .]**

* * *

"Thank you."

Marco blinked, losing his train of thought. He glanced down at the girl. His eyes narrowed in question. This was the first she spoke while on their way home.

"What for?" He asked, taking quite a moment to answer as he had expected her to continue. He was also searching for _what_ she could be thanking him for.

Star could hear the confusion in his voice, and she blinked vacantly in front of her. "For saving my life." She replied simply. In truth, even if she may sound so indifferent, she was truly grateful he had helped her. From how numb the pain in her shoulder felt at the moment, she realized how worse it could have turned out to be if not for his help.

Marco's expression softened and his eyebrows raised as if surprised to hear her say such a thing.

"You didn't have to do it," Star continued, as his silence was overwhelming her, "But I am sincerely thankful that you did so." She said truthfully, blinking the green away from her eyes. Now she needed to owe him for his services, wouldn't she? She wondered what he would ask her to do, what he would want from her. Money? Fame, maybe? Someone to... court...?

She was expectant for something wrong to happen to her now, as anyone who ever helped her always had a dark motive.

" _I didn't need to do it._ "

Star frowned. He sounded resentful. He sounded as if it was a pain for him to do, which Star couldn't help but feel a little bothered from. But she should have expected it.

Marco glared at her and then shook his head, releasing a sigh. "But I did it," He paused, "I did it because I couldn't just let someone _die_." He explained, trying to force the scowl on his lips, and the narrowing of his eyes. These feelings did _not_ make sense, and he was growing frustrated by them.

Star had to stop thinking to process what he said.

"You're right," He added again, "But I couldn't leave you there." He mumbled the last part, conflicted. Seriously, why did he even think about it? A good person— _No_. No, he's—he's _not_ a good person. He never was. It was normal for him to think about it. But it wasn't normal for him to _do_ it. Well, he didn't know if it was normal for him. He just thought of it as stupid. Because he shouldn't take care of someone, because he isn't responsible for someone else, and because he is sure as hell isn't someones—

"Thank you."

Marco felt confused when she said it again. He had just admitted that he didn't _want_ to do it. Why thank you?

Star didn't allow her chest to swell, neither to allow herself to feel... _happy_. Because again, she must be cautious about the way she speaks and how she's represented to avoid problems. She didn't want this boy— _Marco_ , to hate her. Not more than he already does.

Marco didn't bother with a response. It was just a simple Thank you. Not that he's going to be welcome about it.

There was a sudden brief silence that went unwelcome, well, at least to Marco. He didn't know why, but he didn't like the silence. Not like this.

"I do apologize if I come off as invasive," Star began, making the silence crack and burst away, "But... After today, are you..." She paused, and then turned to look at him, her eyes sincere, "Are you alright?"

Marco's previous glare faltered upon taking a look at her pretty eyes, so bright in blue, the color so beautiful that it made him stop. Wait, Beautiful? Since when did he believe her eyes were _beautiful_?

As to prove himself a completely stupid point, Marco let out a disrespectful snort. "Yeah, the bandages on my body _totally_ don't give it away." He replied rather rude, his amused smile faltering ever slightly. It was a stupid question.

Star huffed. "Well, _clearly_ I was asking because of the blood on your clothes, not because of your bandages," Star replied bitterly, glaring slightly.

Marco paused and glanced down at his attire, realizing he was practically covered and soaked with blood. His hoodie was a little soaked but otherwise fine, but his shirt was surely ruined because of how deep the blood ventured. If he could focus, the slight breeze of the air made him realize his shirt was crispy. His pants stuck to his skin in a form he hadn't even noticed, and it wasn't until she pointed it out did he touch his face to also take into account that the lady hadn't cleaned the blood at all. He would need a complete change of clothes, as well as a good _long_ shower.

"And I did not mean to offend you at all," Star said, trying not to frown, "I was only concerned." _Especially if he is summoned on the day of the Blood Moon Ball..._ She thought to herself worriedly.

Marco stopped thinking about his ruined clothes to take into change what she just said, the grip on the wheelchair becoming tight. His slightly widened eyes met hers once again, and once again, he saw her pretty eyes staring deeply into his soul. He could get lost in them, he realized, and suddenly, he found himself welcoming the thought of how her concern pooled into her irises and spread into the inky darkness of her pupil, the shine of the retiring sun beaming them lightly to brighten them ever so much.

Marco hadn't noticed, but he broke a little on the inside, his tense muscles becoming loose. "I'm fine." He replied with no tone to his voice, his eyes breaking the contact they had, off to look into the direction of his serene home. He can't even see it.

Star had felt her stitches stretch her skin when she moved a little to look at him correctly, a small amount of worry surrounding her brain at the thought that she might reopen it. She pushed those brief thoughts aside and chose to, surprisingly, focus on Marco's health. Although he claimed to be fine, Star could tell that he was not. He looked tired and ready to collapse, his eyes were sunken, his muscles stiff. And from his small answers, she could tell he still hated her to bits.

Looking at his clothes, she bit her lip, "I'm sorry for your clothes," She told him, "It's my fault they got so ruined."

It was true. It was her fault they got blood all over them, why they stuck on him like a tick.

"Could also be monster blood," He said, noticing the small transparent bits of green along his arms. "I can always just change them anyway," He muttered, unintentionally trying to assure her it wasn't her fault. Even if it was, he had no idea he was trying to be... _nice_.

"Then," Star paused when he faced her with an eyebrow raised, "...Then why do you still... seem worried? If it isn't your clothing, then what else?" She asked bluntly, immediately biting her tongue when she saw the glare come back to his features.

He hadn't replied and instead looked forward, thinking.

"I... wasn't worried." He mumbled later on their walk, screwing his eyebrows together conflictedly. Was he worried? No, he couldn't have been. He knew Star was okay. But he doesn't know her. Wait, that wasn't his point—Why was he thinking about this stupid girl so much? He wasn't worried about her—he _shouldn't_ be worried about her. He meant his life, not _hers_. Right?

Star noticed his hesitation.

"Why would I be worried, anyway?" Marco asked, rolling his eyes. "I knew you could—" He stopped and cursed, pinching the bridge of his nose. That wasn't at _all_ what he was going to say. Seriously? After he scolded himself for even _thinking_ about her?

Star blinked innocently, confused. "I... could what?" She asked softly, clenching her wand.

Marco shook his head, "Nothing, whatever." He said, scowling more to himself than anything. Stupid, stupid, _stupid_.

Star could see his tanned skin become a light shade of red when he turned away, the way his eyes panicked for a brief moment in their conversation. It looked like he just said something he shouldn't have, which Star couldn't understand. What was so bad that made him stop talking? If he was worried, it...

A sudden struck of recognition hit her all at once, her eyes going wide and instantly looking back at him. He was avoiding her strong stare it seemed because he knew that _she_ knew that _she_ understood.

She understood the fact that for a small moment, he had _cared_ enough to become worried.

And though Marco had messed up in letting it slip so foolishly, he had only felt embarrassed. He didn't feel anything mostly because he didn't allow himself; instead reasoning that he shouldn't feel any worry for her because he didn't even _know_ her.

Star, however, from realizing what he meant, had felt completely different. A part of her felt relieved because for once, it seemed that he didn't hate her. It struck a small sense of hope for her that maybe Marco didn't hate her as much as she thought he did. _More Progress._ Another part of her felt nothing because she partly believed that he was like the rest, fake, and misunderstanding.

For a brief moment, she pondered. And in the next, she said it. "I care for you too, you know." She mumbled, twiddling her fingers in front of her, "I was concerned just as much, if not more so." Star admitted to him, her hands becoming clammy from revealing her truth. She wasn't planning on telling him anything because she thought there was no point to it, but she had come to a complete stop on that decision upon his accidental confession.

And from the way his expression had become surprised, she wished she could take it back.

"I never said that." He replied instantly after she said it, trying to glare. He couldn't though, for his confusion had risen to an _nth_ percent. He didn't know why, but he had to resist the urge to feel... happy? Was that it? He wasn't sure, but he felt a small flutter rise within his chest.

"But you implied it—"

"I don't _know_ you," Marco argued, his words coming out strained. What the hell was she talking about? She didn't know him, and he didn't know her—Why was she thinking for him?

_And why was she right—_

"Then let me get to know you," Star said immediately, her recent glare faltering and her expression softening.

Marco had felt a sudden weird feeling fall over him, curving itself inside and forming a sharp hook. That very same feeling he had felt before had manifested itself inside him again, and for a moment, he wondered why he was resisting such an emotion. It kept pulling up.

She wasn't so sure, but for a very short moment, she had seen his eyes spark an emotion, a feeling she hadn't felt in so long. It was so clear, so transparent to her because she understood how he felt like, before, when she thought of herself as a happy young girl.

However, as fast as that emotion appeared it had vanished, and Star once again saw the boy who avoided her; _hated_ her. They only just met anyway, why should she be feeling a little down that he hates her? People before, in her younger years, still despised her. And although she hadn't done anything wrong, Star felt indifferent about it. No matter what, she was not a speck of gold meant to be adored by all.

And neither, by this Marco.

"I don't know," He whispered after a while, his eyes catching sight of his yellow home up ahead. It wasn't too far. He ignored the bits of body parts he was allowed to see.

Star had turned to look forward again, his words ringing in her head. He doesn't know? Why doesn't he know?

Suddenly, she heard a scoff. "Why do you care, anyway?"

Star didn't feel hurt for once that he regarded her in that tone. This time, she felt... mixed.

"I don't know," She replied in turn, unknowingly making the boy behind her become red.

And, well, unknowingly— _unknowingly_ feeling the heart inside her chest beat quicker at his silence.

* * *

**[. . .]**

* * *

The day was coming to an end.

Beyond the homes and apartment buildings the sun was settling down, its bright luminescent lights covered by the rocky obstacles in the way.

The sky was a beautiful mix of orange and pink and the clouds looked dark above a petite girl walking home.

She was alone and holding onto her forearm, gazing at it with confusion.

"How did he burn me?" Janna asked herself, scrutinizing the bandages wrapped around her fleshy wound. It was incredible that he had managed to burn her. How had he? She remembered accidentally fireproofing herself with a demon spell a few years ago when she was barely learning about Demon magic. It was suspicious, because ever since then when she would summon a being from another realm or universe, whether it be made of fire or a demon itself, they could never harm her enough to _burn_ her. Usually, _she_ was the one causing the burning.

She stopped to stare at it, chuffing her shoe against the sidewalk with an exhausted glare. This was so confusing. And what made her more confused was whether the fact she felt sad or not. And that was bad enough because she didn't know if her spell wore off, or if Tom was just... different.

It was a little annoying on her part; she just _couldn't_ figure it out.

_Shit. I'm sorry, I just—Ugh. I got pissed again, and if I do please don't take it personally, I have a very low temper._

She made a face and glared in front of her. This was so pointless. She wasn't even mad— _at least, not too much_ —and avoiding him was no choice. They made a deal anyway. Not like she can go back on her word.

Plus, she wasn't the type to get mad. Or sad. She didn't even get annoyed too often. The only thing that annoyed her was cute things and everything _pink_. Pink was such an ugly color.

Now with this burn, she felt confused more than anything else. And she had every right to feel confused because his anger had confused her. She didn't do anything wrong, and with the blame suddenly swarming on her? It was confusing as shit.

"'Low Temper'," She mocked in a tiny voice, "Low Temper my ass." She scoffed, rolling her eyes and emitting a sigh. She blinked and glanced at her wrist again, trying not to feel anything. "Never thought he was being serious..."

"Never thought you'd be scared of me," A masculine voice spoke from behind, causing her to stop.

She turned slowly, completely perplexed, masking it with her famous bored expression on her face. Her eyes locked on Tom's, instantly taking notice how droopy they were, and the frown that he forced to go away. It was confusing seeing him like that. Usually, he would be pretty smug about everything. "I wasn't scared, dipshit," Janna snorted, trying not to get angry with him. She wasn't supposed to get mad. She rarely got mad. Getting mad wasn't Janna. But again, what he did wasn't fair at all.

"Seemed like it," Tom mumbled, scratching behind his neck. He wasn't going to tell her that he had noticed her fear, nor was he going to admit to himself that it had him thinking about it for the rest of the day. But he did anyway.

Janna shook her head, her mouth forming a scowl. This was pointless. Stupid, too. Why get mad? Why is she mad? It's not like she wasn't threatened before by another demon and almost killed to death. She knew how to handle things, she brought herself in these types of situations. Tom wasn't different. But was he? Why had he burned her? _Ugh_.

"What do you want, man? Are you here to burn me some more, or what?" She asked, tired. She wanted to go home and rest, not be talking in the middle of the street with the boy who burned her for no reason.

Her voice wasn't snappy, but it had harmed him a little. It wasn't how she normally spoke—it was different. "N— _No_. No, I'm not here to... burn you." He replied rather pathetically.

Janna raised an eyebrow, "Then?"

Tom licked his lips with uncertainty and looked away. If he had to admit it, he was ashamed. He had burned her for no reason, and he felt guilty.

Janna didn't say anything from his silent response and only patiently waited for what he wanted to tell her. Well, impatiently, actually, because she wanted to go home.

"I..." He stopped and looked at her, his eyes instantly swarming into her own, "I... wanted to apologize." He mumbled, sighing.

Janna's expression softened into wonderment, a little expectant. "Apologize...?"

Tom ran a hand through his salmon-colored hair, looking down in frustration. He didn't know how to apologize, and he never liked apologizing. But he knew he was wrong for what he did. And well, he _needed_ to apologize.

"I'm sorry," He blurted, looking at her again, "I'm sorry I burned you—It wasn't... It wasn't right for me to burn you. You didn't do anything," He noticed her body had tensed, "It wasn't your fault, at all."

Janna blinked, "I know it wasn't my fault."

Tom huffed. "I know—I just— _ugh_ ," He slumped a little in place, not knowing what to say. "I just... I just want to say I'm sorry, okay? I wasn't thinking and I hurt you," He said, pleaded, rather, hoping that the advice his father had given him would work. If not, well, he tried.

Janna wasn't sure why, but she didn't like the way he had apologized. Not at all. And she knew why. A part of her thought Tom did too. She knew that there was no reason for an apology because she was informed first hand that he had a bad temper. She was warned, and she stayed anyway. It _was_ her fault because she brought this onto herself. So, with as much sincerity as possible, she laughed.

She outright _laughed_.

And Tom didn't understand why.

Janna covered her mouth with the back of her hand when she noticed Tom's confusion, small chuckles escaping her lips to try and control herself. This was so stupid. _Pointless_.

"I don't understand," Tom admitted, furrowing his eyebrows together. His third eye held an ounce of regret, his confusion deepening. Had he made her crazy? "Why are you... laughing?" He asked.

Janna breathed in deeply and her expression became stoic, "Because," She paused, and she snorted, a smile breaking out on her face, "Because that was so _stupid_ ," She laughed, holding onto her stomach as small tears began to embed in the corners of her eyes.

Tom was in utter stupefaction.

"What?" He asked, eyes wide. "What— _What_ are you even _talking_ about?" He asked, his brows coming down.

Janna wiped her eyes with the back of her hand, lightly laughing. "Seriously?" She asked, the smile on her face becoming smug, "You thought I'd be mad?"

Tom narrowed his eyes, realizing she was making fun of him. "Well no fucking shit, Janna! I burned you—"

"Yeah, you did," Her smile fell and her face became blank, "And it hurt, yeah, but it wasn't your fault." She shrugged, moving the damaged part of her arm.

Tom blinked.

"Are you crazy?" He asked as he approached her closer, lifting her arm gently, "You're not _upset_ —You don't _blame_ me, because I did _this_ ," He showed her the blood on the bandages of her arm, "to you!?"

Janna regarded it lightly and shrugged. "Yep."

Tom shook his head, "What the fuck, _no_ , you should blame me, first of all," He still held her arm and Janna couldn't help but become aware of it, "Second of all," He glared at her, "You're fucking crazy! You _should_ blame me, you _should_ hate me for what I did to you, and—"

Janna chuckled, making him stop. "Tom, look," She touched her bandage, "I can heal this. Quit acting like a moron." She told him simply.

Tom could only stare, grim.

Janna rolled her eyes. "If it makes you feel any better, I'll accept your stupid apology. Just so that you don't think I'm crazy." She said, offering him a smile. Janna dropped it immediately though once she realized what she was doing.

Tom frowned. "I know you're mad at me. At least a little."

Janna felt surprised. "Yeah, I'll admit I was mad," She told him truthfully, "You did burn me after all. But I got over it." She shrugged once more, yet again acting as if she didn't care.

Tom looked down at her arm, her wrist, "I'm sorry."

Janna shook her head. "Quit it with the sorry's, you're making yourself look like a pussy," She said, patting him lightly on the shoulder. In a way, she felt comforted that he held her arm like that.

"Then if you don't want a sorry, let me heal it at least," He muttered, sighing exasperatedly. He wasn't just going to accept the fact that she got over it. He wanted to redeem himself.

Janna tugged her arm away from him a little, "I can do it myself, dude. Quit being such a sad sap." She told him, rolling her eyes.

Tom didn't care. His hand began to glow a fire so bright, so blue it outmatched the sunny skies at middle's hour.

Janna didn't flinch nor did she move when Tom placed his hand on her wrist, his other holding onto her arm so tenderly she had to do a double-take to realize it was there.

It had hurt a little when he had touched her, actually, but in an instant, it was gone. The swelling on her arm had gone down and she could physically feel her layers of skin regenerate slowly, just enough for it to be considered healed.

She looked up at him, the brightness of the fire illuminating his red eyes, making her mind wander. Funny... To think she had never noticed how gentle he looked in the light.

He pulled away and stood at a respected distance away from her, his lips still wearing that same frown.

Janna flexed her wrist and grinned when she didn't feel the pain, looking down at it. She reached for the bandages on them then, but Tom stopped her with his hand.

She looked at him, raising an eyebrow. "It's healed. I can take it off, knucklehead."

Tom shook his head. "Not completely. You'll unfortunately still have the scar." He said.

Janna snorted. "So? These bandages are bothering me—"

"You can't take it off because my magic is using it. If you do, you'll reverse the healing and it'll go back to its former state," He explained, making her relax.

She looked at her wrist again, glaring at it.

"Nerd..." She mumbled, rubbing the bandages once he let go of her arm.

Tom scoffed. "As if. Gross." His offense deteriorated then, stopping for a moment. He forgot about what he was supposed to do here. It was to apologize, don't get him wrong, but he needed something else. And for that 'something else', he wanted to apologize dearly. It was selfish of him, and he hoped that nothing would happen to her during their little stay. Or the whole process.

Janna examined him, his silence making her suspicious.

"Actually, um," He rubbed his hands together and looked at her, nervous.

" _Here we go_ —"

"I need you to come with me to the Underworld," He said sternly, crossing his arms. He wondered what the book would tell him if he brought her there and thought about what it would do.

Janna sighed.

In relief.

" _Finally_ ," Janna said, throwing her head back and then bringing it forward again, "About damn time." She said, a grin forming on her lips. "I thought you'd _never_ ask."

Tom didn't understand why he saw her sudden relief. It looked like she was just using him to get to the underworld. _Maybe so_ , He thought, _but what would she do in the underworld_?

"So..." He twiddled with his thumbs, "Is that a... yes?"

Janna issued him a dry look. "What do _you_ think?"

"That's a yes."

"Yes." She nodded.

"Okay then," Tom huffed and felt a wave of anxiety roll over him, alerting him once again what he was about to do. Maybe the book would just tell him what to do. The book _did_ say it was too early either way. "Let's uh... Go to the underworld," He muttered, turning around.

Janna took note of the symbols on Tom's black leather jacket. She's seen those before. She was sure.

"Ready?" She heard a snap and looked up, the portal bright and swirling in red and orange patterns. It was similar to the one from before.

"Yeah," She mumbled, stepping towards it. She wasn't sure why, but the moment he opened it, a wave of anonymity had hit her. It almost made her stumble back if not for the firm stance Tom had taken behind her.

"Careful," He said, a little smug, "This place is full of energy."

Janna snorted, "I know. I've been in there before." She told him, rather offended.

Tom hummed. "Not here. No mortal has ever been in this area of the underworld." He said.

Janna looked at the portal, confused. She's seen it before. She knows.

"I think I need to carry you."

"No, you don't."

The portal became bigger and pushed her back.

"It's pretty dangerous in there."

Janna shrugged. "If you haven't known already, but I'm literally the _source_ of danger."

Tom picked her up, making her groan. "Not listening." He said, stepping toward the portal.

Janna sighed heavily and stubbornly crossed her arms, not at all trying to admit that it felt good being carried.

* * *

**[. . .]**

* * *

The first thing she saw was fire.

There was... fire. _Everywhere_. Not once did she miss them surrounding the area, their bright light almost hurting her eyes.

She could hear many things within those fires, yelps of pain, and howls of anguish.

Screams.

_Death_.

And though she's seen and heard those things before, she couldn't understand why she felt so uneasy. That stupid emotion was becoming the norm nowadays, and she wondered if it had anything to do with Tom.

She looked at him. He was fine, it seemed, however his eye did a weird flashy thing. It was probably nothing good. "This place isn't even that bad," She said, rolling her eyes. There was no way she was going to admit that it made her feel weird.

Tom set her down and looked surprised. "Really?" He asked, his eyes narrowing in suspicion, "You don't feel the negative energy of this area?"

Janna could've sworn that upon being placed down, the ground had screamed in pain. It had shaken her a little. "Nah. I've been to the underworld before, trust me," She looked around to avoid looking at his face, "It's always like this."

"No." Tom said, "This is different. It's darker here. Janna, this is _Hell_."

Janna blinked.

"So what?" She asked, raising an eyebrow. "Nothing I haven't seen before." She looked back at him and hoped he wasn't able to read her expression.

Tom gave her a look.

Janna returned one as well.

"So what are we doing here anyway?" She asked, breaking eye contact. It wasn't easy hiding what she felt, even if people claimed she was the best at it.

Tom didn't bother with questions and began walking, hearing the rubble groan in agony below him. "We're here to visit my friend. You know, another demon and such." He ignored the scream he heard when he stabbed the heel of his shoe against the red colored dirt. He winced.

Janna didn't realize she had flinched at the sound when she heard a second one, the scream rattling her bones. "Why bring me, then? You should settle your shit with him or her." She said, a small scream coming from her small steps.

"To heal your arm." He lied.

Janna didn't fall for his lie for one second. However, she wasn't distrusting of him in this situation. It's pretty odd to know someone is lying but trust them anyway.

She stopped.

Her eyes wandered and found themselves staring at grey moving objects roaming around in the lower parts of the underworld, feeling a sudden wave of something cold brush against her. "Hey, Tommy?"

He stopped and turned to her with curiosity.

She rose an eyebrow and crossed her arms to stare at them, waves of emotions pulling her in. "You don't think those things'll hurt me, will you? Or try to make me one of them?" She asked, not an inch of fear in her questions. She was never afraid of the unknown because she knew that she would find out eventually. Nor was she afraid of those things. The only thing she wanted to avoid at the moment was them trying to kill her or something.

Tom went over to her and looked down at his subjects, his eyes traveling to the broken catapults and sculptures that surrounded them. "No," He dismissed, walking onward, "You gave your soul to me, so you're completely fine."

Janna blinked vacantly in inner surprise, taking her eyes away from the souls to Tom. She looked at his retreating form, an ice-cold shiver running down her spine, her body feeling distant.

She had forgotten. Her soul was in his hands, and she was now only a pile of flesh and bones. That thought... made her feel different. She just couldn't put her finger on it. Such vague thoughts and yet that was who she was.

Her eyes searched for the grey souls once again, finding them in the same area she saw them. They were moving, yes, but very slow, and in one place only. There was a vast and spacious area just beside them—Why weren't they heading out farther?

Her eyes narrowed when she saw a soul who wasn't moving at all— _two souls_ who weren't moving, different from the others.

It was a man and a woman, their body barely but brittle bones.

She blinked and noticed the man was hanging without anything in the air, red welts around his neck. Nothing was lifting him.

Janna looked at the woman again and tore her eyes away when she realized that the woman was naked. She couldn't tell, but she swore she saw bleeding wounds and bruises along her pale ghostly skin, her wrists bound. Janna looked at them again.

A sharp pang went through her heart upon looking at them again, her body going still. ' _That's just._.'

"Don't look at them," Tom called, sighing and jogging back to her. "You'll catch their emotions. Most likely their memories too."

Janna crossed her arms, expression blank. She was still looking at them despite his warning. "Chill. That can't happen. Not to me, at least." She mumbled, turning away. "Plus, I can't be affected by these sort of things," She smiled smugly at him, shrugging, "You know, being a whole witch and all."

"You're human."

"Your point?"

"You'll get hurt."

Janna and Tom shared an equal round of stares.

The first to look away was Tom, whose phone was ringing from his jean's back pocket.

Janna was glad for the distraction, for she knew that if she stared any longer, she would begin to feel _things_. And let the lord and savior forbid anything of that sort.

Tom answered the call with a polite ' _Hello_ ,' which surprised Janna. His cautious demeanor from earlier vanished the instant somebody else was on the line.

"Oh," Tom's brows furrowed together and his hands clenched his demon phone, worry eminent in his face. "Oh, yeah, sure, sure." He mumbled quickly, turning away to look at the souls below.

Janna watched expectantly, idly standing by as she listened intently to Tom's phone call. Whatever it was, the caller sounded pretty worried.

"Okay, yeah. Don't worry, we're on it." He said, nodding to himself. "Yeah. It's okay. Okay. Bye." He pulled away from his phone and ended the call, staring at the screen.

Janna wasn't going to ask who or what called. It wasn't her right to know. Plus, she can always find out later anyway.

"Hey, Janna," He put his phone away and turned to her, "Mind waiting here for a little bit? I need to do something really quick. It's important." He told her quickly, popping out his shades from the collar of his white shirt.

"Can't I come with you or something? It'll get pretty boring out here." She suggested, unintentionally spewing a cheeky smile.

Tom had noticed but didn't comment. "It's dangerous where I'm headed." He told her, "You'll probably die or something."

Janna rolled her eyes. "Somehow I knew you'd say that... Okay, yeah, sure man. I'll wait out here. Where it's equally as dangerous." She said, shrugging.

Tom put his shades on, his three eyes now behind a black void. "You'll be fine as long as you stay right here. This is the safest place in hell," He stated factually, glaring at her.

Janna stared at him dryly. "You said this was the most dangerous place," She deadpanned, tired.

Tom snapped his fingers and something black appeared on his palm.

She huffed when the atmosphere felt less heavy. "Yeah, okay, fine. Go do whatever it was you were going to do," She said, already walking off.

"Wait," He called, making her stop, "Here."

Janna was handed a black piece of fuzzy fabric with two bright red letters, "If you're in trouble just use this."

She examined the work, noticing that the two symbols on the cloth were the same ones on the back of his jacket. "And how do I use this?" She asked, raising an eyebrow at it.

"Touch the two letters." He said, pointing at the L and the Y, "You'll be able to summon me."

Janna grinned, "How Fancy. What do they mean, though? Looks kind of suspicious." She admitted.

"I'll tell you later. I gotta get going, don't do anything stupid." He warned, floating into the air with fire blasting from his shoes, "Seriously."

Janna snorted, "Yeah, Tommy. Don't worry." She told him, watching him hesitate before flying away.

As she watched him depart, she lifted the cloth back up, scowling at it as she gazed upon the symbols.

* * *

**[. . .]**

* * *

A few minutes had passed since Tom's departure, and Janna was already bored.

During those minutes, she had been walking around and kicking at the big red rocks, at times drawing pentagrams or throwing smoke from her mustered kicks into the dirt.

Currently, she was at the edge of a cliff sitting idly, staring wonderingly out at the red... skies? Was that what they were?

Either way, whatever she was doing, she was bored. There was nothing to do other than stare at places where those grey beings weren't around, just stupid dirt. It was very tiring, and though she wanted to wander her eyes at the souls, she couldn't because Tom had specifically told her not to.

What does he know, anyway? Why was she even following his stupid orders? She's done things with far more risks before, and nothing's happened to her. She's completely fine.

So why follow his orders? It would be pointless because nothing can happen to her.

Leaning her head onto her palm, she glanced down, ridding away Tom's warnings inside her head.

Her eyes remained hard when she realized that most of the souls had stopped to stare at her, their faces tired and blank. It was creepy, but not enough to make Janna recoil. She was pretty creepy herself and could be the most if she tried.

With a sigh, she looked away and the frigid emotions washed away from her legs dangling at the edge.

"Have you seen my Grandmother?"

Janna stilled and turned slowly.

There was but a simple child standing behind her with a missing eye, a wide and crooked grin plastered on its face. "She's missing," He said.

Janna regarded the small grey child with a shrug. "Don't know where your missing Granny is, kiddo." She told him truthfully, leaning back with a hint of sadness coursing through her. Oh shit, she wasn't supposed to look at him.

The child, at her response, frowned and skipped away, suddenly vanishing mid-air.

Janna wasn't shaken upon seeing someone disappear, nor was she going to allow the negative emotions of the undead try to surround her. She was pretty strong. However, she couldn't picture away from the missing eye of that little boy, or how hollow and empty it made her feel. It probably stopped behind her on purpose.

Brushing it off, she returned to staring at the empty, humid red skies that screamed nothing to her, bored once more. It was so boring.

Just... nothing.

Looking back down at the souls, they resumed their usual roaming, ignoring her once more. The only exception was the souls she saw earlier of that woman and man, staying still as if in agony.

She wasn't sure why, but they reminded her of Marco's parents. The woman had the same long hair as Marco's mother, and the man was just as buff as Marco's father. It kind of made her rethink her past for a little, wondering why Marco's parents had left their son.

Marco hadn't told her. The only thing he mentioned was that he knew his parents loved him a lot, and they wouldn't just _die_ on him. It didn't make sense because people can die at any moment, but Janna knew what he meant. Even if it still didn't make sense.

It made her wonder. Only a few people knew about how Marco's parents died, yet Marco didn't. It was rather cruel, not knowing how your parents perished.

It wasn't in Janna to know, but she swore she'd find out. And still, she had not broken it.

Even after Marco had dismissed her, and after their whole fight. They were friends once— _best friends_. But after Marco's parents had died, he began to act differently. At first, he was more upset than anything. He cried every night. Stopped working on his work.

He had even isolated himself, and if it wasn't for Janna, he would have starved himself.

It was troubling, seeing him that way. And after Jackie left him, things only became worse.

Everyone turned their back on him, nobody was there for him. Except her, because she knew Marco wouldn't do the things they said.

Yet, he had thrown her away, telling her to go away and leave him alone.

Janna frowned, her memories flooding back to her. It had always been bad. And she still felt... _off_ , even to this day.

"Please..." A hoarse voice called to her, "Help me..."

Janna turned immediately with confused eyes, locking in on an elderly woman. She had a knife embedded into the right side of her exposed skull, her face blurred by a long red line that oozed blood. She was crawling towards her with a desperateness that made Janna make a face and move away. This woman was hurt, but she was dead. Janna knew not to intervene.

The old woman, upon noticing her refusal and movement, had narrowed her eyes, crawling quicker. "I said... help me!" She screamed, her loose jaw hanging as it bobbed up and down.

Janna couldn't move back because of the cliff, and the woman was far too close to allow any exits. It grabbed onto her jacket and pulled her towards her rotting corpse, making Janna glare and try shoving her off. "Lay off, you old hag!" Janna hissed, kicking her away while backing up slightly.

But that was a big mistake.

Her hand behind her had touched nothing and she fell head down, the curve of the cliff the only thing breaking her sudden fall. But it wasn't enough, for she had begun to roll and roll and roll, her head making contact with a rock.

It had hit her but not enough to cause her to pass out, and though able to move, she didn't have the strength to hang onto another rock to stop herself from falling farther down.

In the end, she landed near a sculpture of broken glass, her body creating a swallow of dust around her.

Faintly she could feel blood burble down her head, her hair masking the wound. She swore quietly and attempted to sit up and grab the fabric Tom had given her, only to feel a sharp and burning pain in her lower left side of her abdomen. Her body immediately lay back down, the pain still hissing right through her.

_Shit_.

Her clothes were torn and her jacket was hanging off a sharp rock, the only source in which she had been hurt falling.

With a faint taste of dirt and blood in her mouth, Janna looked back at her body, noticing a small but fairly sizable glass shard within her. Biting her lower lip, she grabbed onto the shard and cursed as she removed it, the pain becoming worse. She knew not to remove it, but by allowing it to remain inside her, she was making herself feel worse.

Her shorts were beginning to soak the blood that was coming out, and quickly, she reached into her pocket to retrieve the item she needed. Tears were in the corner of her eyes as she moved the open wound and grazed it against her clothing, her finger reaching in and taking it out.

While taking it out, she had touched the two symbols, and her hand had fallen limp beside her, her eyes lidding. This wasn't good. She wasn't breathing well, and she could feel her body fall and pull into depths. She thought she had been careful this time. She was always careful when messing with paranormal or out of this world things.

The instant she touched the symbols, Tom had appeared with a snap of his fingers, his eyes wide and alert. He held back a gasp when he saw Janna's wilted form, and immediately reached down for her, "Holy shit— _Janna?_ What happened? Janna?" He held her and pulled her in his arms, worry eminent in his face.

She said nothing and closed her eyes completely, her mind welcoming in the depths of darkness.

"Fuck, fuck fuck," Tom repeated worriedly, carefully picking Janna up. "Stay awake, don't worry, you'll be fine, you'll be fine," He kept blabbering more to himself than anything, and with a snap of his fingers, disappeared with her.

* * *

**[. . .]**

* * *

Star pushed the hair away from her face and released a breath, her eyes looking elsewhere to avoid the bits of monster carcasses still outside in the area. Surprisingly, not many neighbors had gone outside and gaped at the scene. It seemed most were preoccupied with doing other things, which was good on her part. It would be a shame if some looker would accuse her of such malicious things such as murder, but she wondered if this dimension would do anything at all.

Star's wheelchair had stopped and she looked up in surprise, noticing Marco brush past her and take out a set of keys hanging from one silver circle. Indeed, this dimension used the same tactics as her own home. She would have thought it would have been far more advanced than that, considering the lights would appear out of nowhere.

She was moving once again, this time out of her own accord, mustering up enough strength to move the wheels. As it seemed, it looked like this chair was used for such things.

Marco turned to bring her inside once he opened the door only to find her going in herself, the bow in her hair now off and on her lap. It seemed weird, looking at her with her hair down and so pretty.

_Pretty?_ Marco thought as he rolled his eyes and stepped inside, _Her hair's irrelevant. Why would I be thinking of her hair?_

His eyes caught sight of her stopping by the stairs and glancing up exhaustingly, her eyes blinking slowly. With a sigh she stood up as her legs wobbled slightly, her body suddenly feeling ten times tired.

She had tried to move at her usual pace, but due to the blood she had lost earlier, they felt weak and heavy. It had caused her to fall again, but yet again, he was there.

She felt her face fall against a soft frame, and she looked up, finding Marco holding onto her. _Is he always so quick to catch me?_

"Be careful," He spat, his eyes betraying his words. They looked blank but otherwise fine, however, if she looked deep enough, she would be able to catch something else she just couldn't decipher. It made her wonder what it was that looked so similar about it.

Star made a curved 'o' with her lips, "Oh, I'm sorry." She said genuinely, trying to stand up properly, "I didn't mean to get in your way."

Marco saw her try and stand, and fail. He held her firmly, "Yet you did." He said a little softly, his expression surprisingly still the same.

Star released a tired huff. "I'll try to head up there myself. I don't wish to bother you," She said and for a third time, tried to stand.

When she proposed to move away and attempt again, he held her firmly.

She looked at him then, confused.

"You're weak." He stated matter of factly, making her frown.

"Yes, I am," Star said, turning her head down with a sigh. "I can't even stand properly."

He rose an eyebrow, considering. It would be easy enough to let her do this on her own as she wanted. But it would probably bother him later, considering this new emotion wasn't leaving him anytime soon.

And he hated to admit that it was starting to worry him that for the past two days, he hadn't felt anything else otherwise. Sure, the occasional annoyance and irritation along with his mutual hatred towards everything were still present, but it was slightly less. It confused him. Especially now that her words were the only things replaying in his head.

"Do you need any... help?" He asked, hesitating. He realized that she might take his question as an invitation to do things as she pleases, which bothered him immensely.

He bit his tongue hardly when he saw her eyes swarm with curiosity and sparkle with that same emotion again, her body almost relaxing onto him.

She appeared a little embarrassed, as her cheeks had taken a rosy hue. "It appears I... do." She stated.

He nodded numbly in reply.

* * *

**[. . .]**

* * *

"You're bleeding."

Marco turned to look at her open door, finding her dressed properly once more, her hair brushed and tied in a pretty braid. She was wearing a light pink dress that reached her thigh, and pretty white socks that were covered with blue slippers. Even if her nightgown was a long sleeve, he could faintly see the edges of the bandages wrapped around her shoulder.

His hand had reached instinctively to the bandage on his cheek, brushing against the wet material.

Star came out of her room and approached him, "It looks like the assistant healer had not bothered to stitch it at all."

"It wasn't deep." Came his gruff reply, eyes narrowing. "I'll just clean it up later."

"I can... I can clean it up for you." She offered politely, her hands clasping together in front of her.

"No thanks." He said, rolling his eyes and turning to head downstairs.

Star frowned. It was always like this. Why did he despise her so?

"Please," She called to him, making him stop, "I have caused you enough disturbance already. Let me do this, at least for you." She said sincerely, a broken chord in her voice.

Marco felt the emotion in her voice. He felt hate bubble inside himself when a sudden pang coursed through his chest. He paused to assess what just happened and what she just said, and he turned to her, a small glare evident on his face. Though, he was confused more than anything else.

She stared back at his mahogany-colored eyes, watching them bounce around with what she could tell: Confusion. Why was he confused? Did he not trust her words?

"Okay."

He looked at her so hatefully. Yet... with something else.

She smiled at his response and headed inside, failing to see his glare falter and eyebrows furrow in worriment.

* * *

**[. . .]**

* * *

When she looked at him again the time he entered her room, his hateful glare was still there.

And without even realizing, the smile on her face had fallen, and again, did she welcome the fact that he hated her so. It was a peaceful thought along with the others. She would, surprisingly, want him to keep hating her because she could have no other choice but to not feel. It would keep her sane, unfortunately.

The door to her room closed and she glared at the large messy book in the corner of her room, the book only idly sitting by itself in reply. Somehow, she heard that same annoying snicker.

Her glare went away when she looked back at Marco however, a gentle smile replacing her scowl. "You can sit on my bed while I retrieve the supplies needed." She told him softly, moving as carefully as possible to her drawer in one corner of her room.

Marco didn't regard her with a reply and did as he was told, deciding that the sooner she did it, the sooner he would get it over with. It was confusing by itself, and it annoyed him that it was.

Setting himself gently onto the queen-sized bed, he looked around to preoccupy himself, noticing things of every sort. It was alarming that after two days, the room was still vastly empty yet... with a touch of everything in it. First off, there were books. _Everywhere_.

They were neatly stacked in the corner of the room, and beside them was a large door. It looked seethrough, but no matter how much he peered at it, he could only see the darkness inside. It felt almost like a metaphor for him, but it was stupid to take it that way.

Secondly, there were many candles, and Marco didn't understand why if the light switch was present right beside the door. It appeared that Star truly was from another dimension if the wand and the magic wasn't a dead giveaway.

The mattress bounced lightly as another weight had fallen over it, making him turn and see Star looking opposite of him, searching inside a wooden box. His eyebrow rose as a skeptical look had risen to his face, his eyes narrowing at the box. That didn't exactly look like a first aid kit.

His skepticism deteriorated when she turned to him once more, her hand gripping a small glass bottle of a slightly clear liquid. It looked similar to alcohol, and when she put it on the white silken cloth, it certainly smelled like it. He wondered if she knew that alcohol wasn't a good idea, for it would not only kill the bacteria but the healthy cells as well.

"What is that?" He asked, eyes narrowing once more.

Star placed the bottle down as well as the small cloth, "To be real honest, I'm not sure. However, I can assure you that this material," She pointed at the objects on her lap, "Is certainly for healing."

Marco rolled his eyes. As if he was going to believe that.

"Do you mind?" She asked softly, his eyebrows relaxing, "Your, um..."

"My what?" He asked.

She pointed at her cheek, "The bandage."

Marco blinked.

And took the bandage off.

Star noticed his knuckles wrapped as well and frowned. She wanted to offer help on those, but she was sure Marco would deny her. Besides, it seemed he could do it.

She also noticed that Marco was lying. The cut _was_ deep. Though, not that deep. She withheld a tired and disappointed sigh.

Now that he had cleaned up, she could tell that it was just a few layers of skin underneath. She reached for the wet cloth again, and as careful as possible, moved closer to him to reach his face.

She had missed the way he looked elsewhere but her eyes, and the small redness that was brought upon his cheeks.

"How had this happened?" Star asked with a gentle tone, concerned.

Marco held back the hiss at the contact of the stung material, releasing a sigh. "Spear." He said.

"I'm sorry." She said. And she meant it.

Marco looked at her, her fingers lightly gripping his chin upwards. "It happens." He replied. This was ridiculous. Why was she apologizing?

Her face cast a look of calmness, and her beautiful eyes met his. "You should have left me. You should have been more careful."

Marco didn't understand why he wanted to protest. She was right. Why was she always right?

"Maybe... I should have." He mumbled, looking away, his heart accelerating ever so quickly.


	6. Accepted

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> His life had been filled with death and heartbreak, changing him for the worst. That is, until one obedient princess helped change it for the better. - [MarcoBadBoy!AU]

**[. . .]**

* * *

_Narrator's P.O.V_

* * *

**[. . .]**

* * *

"Maybe... I should have."

Star traced the white cloth along the outside of his cut, momentarily stopping upon hearing his response. She was surprised, yet also quite... saddened.

"It was best that you did so." She agreed, eyes droopy.

Marco felt the wet material lightly rub away at the dry blood that managed to get stuck on him. He released a sigh. "It _was_ best," He repeated.

Star bit her tongue from saying anything else. It was unexplainable why her chest ached from his agreement to her statement. It didn't make sense; she doesn't _know_ who Marco is. From what she's perceived, she took note that he's an arrogant and rude individual with surprisingly charming motives. And unfortunately, she doesn't know anything about who he was as a person, his history, his feelings...

"It wouldn't have been fair for you, though." He told her, his eyes deeply investigating her over. ' _What am I saying?'_ His inner voice scolded.

Star would have blushed from such eye contact if it wasn't for the fact that she was also staring at him that way. "...How so?" She asked carefully, breaking the eye contact and removing the wipe from his skin to replace it.

Marco kept looking at her, unsure of how to respond. How was he supposed to tell her that he just had a 'feeling'? It wouldn't make sense. That certain feeling can mean anything, whether guilt or concern.

"Take a look at it this way, Queeny," He regarded roughly, eyes narrowing, "If you saw someone, alone, obviously _scared_ to fight off multiple beings that are _twice_ her size—"

"I was _not_ afraid." Star interrupted, glaring back at him. "I was able to handle the situation."

"Yet that's not what I saw," Marco replied bitterly, glaring back.

"Your eyes deceive you," Star said, scowling. "And don't call me ' _Queeny_ '. It's highly disrespectful."

Marco rolled his eyes, emitting a scoff. "Why not? That's what you are, isn't it? Or do you want me to call you a spoiled brat?" He asked.

Star released an exasperated sigh, lowering her hands to her lap. He was insufferable. "It was best that you left me." She said, her voice much more even. "You wouldn't have gotten so hurt."

At this, his expression faltered slightly, the crease of his brows disappearing. He glared at her again after a few moments, however, taking it wrong. "Are you saying I was _weak_ —"

"I wasn't assuming anything," She told him quickly, eyes wide, "I swear to you, I was not calling you weak. From what I saw, you were— _are_ —far from it." She replied, gripping the new cloth in her hand while her other held the clear glass of liquid. This was going in a wrong turn that was _so_ unnecessary. She was only trying to help him, yet he assumed other things far worse.

Marco raised an eyebrow.

"It was dangerous."

Marco glared. "Very. And without my help, you would've _died_." He hissed.

Star frowned. "It wouldn't have been a surprise."

"Obviously."

"Thank you." She shook her head while saying so, looking down at the medical items, "But, as I stand, you should have left."

"You would've _died_ —"

"You would have died as well!" Star said, releasing a small groan. "Do you not understand that the reason I told you to leave was because those monstrous beings are evil— _so evil_ —that they're capable of killing me, someone _wielding_ an all-powerful source of _magic!?_ " Star hissed, clearly distressed.

Marco groaned as well. "That's not my _point_. My point here is the fact that you would've fucking _died_." He countered yet again, angered. "It would have been far worse if you were by yourself!"

She huffed and decided to proceed with her task. It was pointless. Arguing with this... _Marco_ had the desired effect; to anger her.

"It doesn't matter that I die." She whispered. "It matters that everyone else is safe."

Marco stopped himself before he said anything else. She was right yet again. It doesn't matter that she dies. Why was he about to counter her about it? He... He doesn't care.

"Are you this selfish that you'd rather hurt your parents, your _friends_ , and instead die?" He asked, rolling his eyes in exasperation. This whole argument was pointless. "What about your people, huh? If you're this so-called _Princess_ , you're needed, right? You're going to abandon your stupid subjects?" He spat, irritated.

Star paused, expression blank.

Marco looked at her while she carried on with putting alcohol on a new cloth, noticing the slight shaking of her hands. He, in a sudden realization, had opinionated something he wasn't sure of. He didn't know if she had friends or if she had parents, and he didn't know so because he didn't care. And so bashfully, he had presumed she had parents in the first place where most likely she did not. She probably didn't have friends. Or anyone, for that matter. But yet again, did he know such things?

But he was sure about the princess thing. It made sense.

He wasn't wrong.

"I am not sure," She replied softly, releasing a small sigh. "It isn't important to mention my life, because I know for a fact that you wouldn't bother with it," She gave him a pointed look, "But to assure you, I don't have friends," She frowned and noticed the slight flash in his eyes, "I don't have a family; my mother is still with me but I highly doubt she cares enough for me to be on my guard," She breathed in and closed the lid on the bottle, reaching for him again, "And my entire existence is to protect those around me. It is my duty as future Queen to give up my life for others who deserve it far more than I do."

Marco was looking at her, ignoring the mild hisses of pain on his raw and bloody skin, his mind thinking over what she just said. He was wrong. Yet again, he was wrong. And yet again, he found himself in such a state that he couldn't possibly car—

He released a hiss of pain when the particular substance on the cloth had gotten him deeply into his wound, and his body jerked back as his hand reached up to cover it instinctively.

"Oh dear," Star whispered urgently, putting the cloth down and reaching for him again, "I'm _terribly_ sorry, are you alright?" She asked quickly, worry clear on her face.

Marco relaxed and shot her a mild glare. "I'm fine."

"Oh my dear Queen Urania," She cursed, shaking her head, "I'm sorry, it's my fault you got hurt—"

"It wasn't your fault," Marco dismissed, crossing his arms, clearly embarrassed he had reacted that way. "Rubbing Alcohol usually does that. It's normal."

Star frowned. "I should have known, then. This substance was said to be harmful when they retrieved it from your dimension." She said rather guilty, placing the bottle back into the box.

Marco rolled his eyes at her guilt. "You're _overreacting_ —"

"I'm _sorry_."

Marco huffed and looked skywards, his eyes closing briefly. Does she not understand that she didn't commit any _mistake_? Does she not understand that he understood it was an _accident_?

Noticing his reaction, Star guiltily twiddled with her fingers, biting her lips in apprehension. So far, her form of helping him recover was far from what she hoped it would be, and miserably, felt more guilt now than she did before. She knew she shouldn't have used the essences from Earth. This place was said to damage many people, and it's medicine, although advanced, is far from something convenient. It's dangerous, and life-risking, contrasting to the natural medicine from her home dimension Mewni. If only she had listened to what her mother told her.

Marco glanced back at her again, his expression blank, deciding whether to tell her he was going to do it himself or to convince her that she didn't do anything wrong. Hey, why should he convince her anyway? He wasn't about to waste his time arguing with her. He didn't have any time for that, not anymore. _'And yet you've already wasted your time with everything else that pointed back to her...'_

From the corner of her eye, a sudden glint of a red liquid reflected from the small candlelight in her room, capturing her attention. Her mind suddenly began working, and she allowed herself to feel... relieved, was it?

"I should—"

"This comes from my home dimension," Star said suddenly, taking out the glass bottle filled with a red-colored liquid, "It has natural healing properties proven to heal wounds quickly over a week. A day, even, if strong enough." Star chirped, smiling sheepishly at him.

Marco stared at her, dumbfounded.

Star proceeded to pour said red liquid onto another cloth, "It is also most relaxing, and relieves temporary stress or pain brought upon by the wound."

Marco made a face, "...Okay? Why do _I_ care—"

"Your cut will heal quicker, Marco." She deadpanned, the earlier smile on her face replacing itself with a scowl. It seemed that's all Marco got out of her.

Marco rolled his eyes, "I knew I should've just fixed this myself," He mumbled angrily, convincing himself that he should've just said _no_. It was so simple, too. Why had he been so dumb to _not_ say no?

"Pardon?" Star asked, furrowing her brows.

Marco's expression remained still. "I should've fixed this myself," He repeated much louder, forming a glare.

Star glared back. "I'm offering you my assistance, and you say you'd rather fix this yourself?" She asked, clearly offended.

Marco didn't care. "That's what I said. I regret coming in here," He said, letting out what he felt. Although he felt it was the truth, it was far from it. He wasn't aware he had enjoyed her touch, nor was he aware of the fact that he hadn't once thought about his life. Somehow she had distracted him enough to prevent him from letting his depression swallow him whole.

"Well," She huffed angrily and closed the glass bottle with the red liquid, "I'd _never_." She muttered angrily, placing the bottle back with an angry motion.

Marco scoffed, "Look Queeny, you wanted me here in the first place. I was happy to say _no_." He told her truthfully, and her glare faltered.

"Then why didn't you?" She challenged.

Marco blinked vacantly, his previous glare deteriorating into expressionless oblivion. ' _Why hadn't I?'_

Star stared at him, equally the same, internally confused and riddled with questions. But her mind was set on a clear answer.

Marco narrowed his eyes, taking her challenge unintentionally. Who was this girl to ask him things like that? She had no right whatsoever. "Maybe I took pity on you." He replied, a dark look settling onto his features.

Star wasn't perturbed. "Then I'm not the only one who took pity on the other," She leveled his gaze and thumbed at the dripping cloth on her hand, determined.

Marco bit the inside of his cheek, thinking of a reply.

She waited, avoiding her eyes from the cloth. The red reminded her of... many things.

He inhaled, "Then maybe we aren't so different." He mumbled, testing her.

_But what was there to test?_

Star softened. "I suppose not." She whispered, and Marco had to stop to process what she said.

He had glared at her, and the confusion that suddenly bubbled within him had only provoked another glare if that was possible. That... wasn't the response he expected.

"It doesn't mean anything," He said in a heartbeat, hoping she hadn't taken it the wrong way.

"It doesn't matter, does it?" She mumbled, inching closer to him, "We are still similar."

Marco didn't back away, "Not entirely."

"A small portion," She replied in turn.

He would be lying if he hadn't felt a small jolt in his chest when her hands touched his face again, his body going still at the contact. Her hands felt cold.

But to his burning skin, they felt heavenly. It was annoying that it felt that way.

She pressed the now red-colored cloth onto his wound, her eyes focused. Her hand gently massaged around it, pressing onto the wound itself afterward. The pressure she put allowed a drop of red-colored liquid to drip down her wrist, and her eyes flickered to it briefly before looking away quickly. It was best she wouldn't look at that, in fear that it would trigger the nightmares in her not so distant past. They already bothered her enough in her sleep.

Marco had been staring at her the entire time, and though the pain that he had purposely ignored on his wound was now gone, he couldn't help but wince when she pressed onto it deeper, almost as if digging in there. He would have complained about it, but he had no idea what she was doing, nor the medicine she was using to supposedly 'heal' him. And by how attentive she was, he couldn't help but trust her just a tiny bit in what she was doing.

The look on her face was so determined, so concentrated, he could tell that she seemed to know what she was doing. Her lips would part and her eyebrows would slant, her pupils dilate, skimming along his open skin.

She... _still_ looked pretty.

He bit his tongue from saying anything and hoped he was blank-faced because he wasn't about to go all soft on her just because she was pretty. Pretty girls mean danger, he was sure of it. What was he even saying? She wasn't even that pretty. At _all_ , actually.

While staring, he looked away when her eyes looked into his. He played dumb, feeling her strong gaze move between his eyes to his cut. Why was she even looking at him anyway?

She stopped.

Marco could feel her grip on his chin loosen, and he only had the sense to look at her when he felt her move away. He had expected her to be done and put a bandage on him, or give him a bandage to put on himself, but he widened his eyes upon noticing the sudden green-glowing eyes staring widely at not him, but her arm.

She was just staring.

The cloth, drying up, was gripped tight, and the dull red line of the essence sliding down her forearm remained, clear in her snow skin. Her breathing was quiet yet rugged, and he watched her eyes intensely drip tears.

Faintly, he could see the hearts on her cheeks break at each tear that fell, tearing away at the flushed pink.

"No, that's—" She swallowed and blinked multiple times, looking up at Marco with shocked and terrorized eyes. "—That's—No. No, she didn't—I didn't _do_ anything," She whispered, pleading to him.

Marco stared at her with wide eyes, unable to respond. He turned back to find only a pink wall, and his brows knitted when he looked at her again, practically gasping for air.

_"Open yourself, or deny her death."_

_"It won't hurt. Not anymore."_

_"Do you like that?"_

_"Stop screaming!"_

_Star felt her cheek burn and her insides churn, trying to look away. They had her again, they wanted her again, and she had nothing to give anymore. There was nothing left anymore. Why had that girl left her to suffer through it alone?_

_Why had life given her this?_

" _Star_."

_Star closed her eyes, backing away, feeling their hands hold her in place. This... She couldn't do it anymore. Why?_

_Why had she been given this end? She just wanted to help her, the girl, her friend. But she's gone, and now she's receiving the punishment for another._

Marco saw her shake, and with a small pinch of worry, he reached for her.

"Star—" His eyes widened when she moved away, shaking her head 'no' furiously.

"Please, I was only trying to _help_ —"

"Star, nothings _happening_ ," Marco told her, thoroughly confused, wondering why she was all of a sudden acting like that. He hadn't done anything to her, and unexpectedly, she wanted to get rid of him.

Is she...? "Star, it's fine, calm down," He tried to stand up and let her sit properly, but she moved again and he stopped.

"You-You're—Leave me, I have done nothing to your kind!" She hissed at him, hot angry tears now falling down her cheeks, the look of fear sharp and evident in her orbs.

Marco relented from letting his confusion consume him. Instead, he resorted to helping her. In the back of his mind, he had a feeling she was experiencing some sort of attack, since earlier in his years he experienced the same things. He had one not too long ago, but it was a mild one before she got here. He wasn't sure if it was an anxiety or panic attack, but he presumed it was a panic attack since she seemed to be gripping her neck, and her voice came out in small gasps.

By all means, it was one of the most stressful, time-induced things that could ever happen, possibly just as bad as knowing you're about to die. He needed to go to the hospital when it happened the first time because his mind was tricking him he couldn't breathe.

"Star," He began evenly, placing a firm hand on both her shoulders, "You need to sit down."

Star grabbed onto his forearm and gripped tight, her breath forming hiccups of despair. "Please, leave me be." She pleaded, looking into his eyes.

Marco wasn't sure why a chill ran down his spine upon looking at her, nor did he want to. He thought of it better to push those thoughts away and focus on her instead. "I will. But I'm not leaving until you calm down." He said, voice firm and unrelenting.

Star shook her head, lightly pushing him away. "Don't kill me," She stopped, shaking her head again furiously, "I..."

Marco sighed, "I'm not going to kill you. I'm not... a murderer." He told her, trying to assure her that everything was alright. Although he thought it annoying and pestering that this was happening to her, and he had to be the one there for her because nobody else was around, he felt rather responsible for causing this to her. Though, he shouldn't think that way; panic attacks can be sudden.

Star blinked rapidly, her large and innocent green orbs suddenly losing their glow, returning to their original state.

Her breathing started evening out, and her tears stopped, the pink hearts on her cheeks quickly returning to their original form.

He looked at her and removed his hands from her shoulders, recoiling back a few steps when he realized that he was still touching her. He acted bashfully and so out of it. It felt... out of character for him to try and help someone, and as he watched her wither away the shock, the same ache inside his chest had returned. The same feeling that looped over and over again had begun once more, and he wondered if he was finally dying. It was a bit overdramatic on his part, but this sensation was so abnormal to him, he couldn't judge himself this time for this.

Star's hand was placed onto her chest as it rose and fell, the remnants of her tears going away.

It... had happened again. The same nightmares had happened again.

She glanced up at him, her blue eyes dull and disheartening.

Marco didn't bother to deeply stare into her eyes, for he did not wish to see his reflection in them. "You had a panic attack," Marco said bluntly, face blank as he busied himself with staring at anywhere else but her.

Star's eyes widened, and her mouth formed a grim line. "A... panic attack?" She mumbled, furrowing her brows.

Marco didn't know if she was wondering what it was, or if she was now only realizing she had one.

"What is... a panic attack?" She asked, voice barely above a whisper. It shook just like the rest of her body, her throat still raw from the emotions.

Marco crossed his arms, glaring at the floor. "A panic attack is, well, sudden panic, and it varies from mild to severe." He explained. "It happens to a lot of people."

Star shook her head, processing his information. She had never talked to someone about what happened to her or what she experienced; she thought her abrupt anxiety that pooled in her stomach and the sensation of vomiting was normal, even her rapid breaths, her supposed visions of her past, and the swell of painful emotions inside her chest.

She hadn't bothered telling anyone else because it also had caused her great misery to do so. Every time she wanted to she held her tongue as if some sort of fear took over her. It was scary for her to tell anyone, and she knew part of it was because the people in... that terrible place had promised they would find her and take her back again if she revealed anything of that sort.

It had made her feel completely unsafe and stressed.

"Does it happen often?" She asked, eyes droopy.

Marco wasn't sure if she knew the answer and she was just asking him to confirm it, or if she didn't know. But he answered her anyway. "Without the proper help, yeah." He answered.

Star frowned and stood up, her wound on her shoulder aching mildly. It must've been because she was moving around so much.

She breathed in shakily, gripping the wood of her bed as to stand properly. "Does..." She had a sad look to her face, and briefly, her eyes flashed green, "Can you heal it?" She murmured, her voice so soft and quiet he could barely hear it at all.

Marco stared at her coldly, refusing to let his empathy perform his response.

"No," He said, just as quietly.

* * *

**[. . .]**

* * *

The moment Tom snapped his fingers, he disappeared with a flash of a bright flame, swiftly appearing inside the castle—inside his room.

It was dark with only a few torches to light his way, but it was enough for him to see everything around him. With a rush of steps, he went to his black-cotton colored bed with red embroidery, making sure to part the black sheered drapes out of his way before placing her softly onto the mattress.

He didn't care that her blood had soaked his white shirt, neither did he care that her plasma stained his white sheets underneath the black blanket she was put on. It only mattered that he took care of the mess he brought upon bringing her here, and he had no idea what to do.

His panicked eyes had skimmed her entire body, and he realized with such stupidity that she had suffered some sort of hit on her head, and a very obvious stab wound was present almost above her hip line.

_'Dammit,'_ He thought miserably, scrambling to his drawer only to pull out a few towels, _'What the fuck was I thinking?'_

Janna, in such a deep state of unconsciousness, had managed to move but did not open her eyes. She heard very faintly everything that was going on, and she had barely heard him, but she _heard him_.

"You'll be fine," He said quickly, reaching under her to wrap the tied towels together, "I know you will." He added, pressing his hands onto the wound to minimize the blood flow.

His voice sounded fuzzy to her ears, broken, even.

_'He... sounds worried.'_

She had not attempted to move anymore, and she felt like she was falling.

_'Maybe... he cares.'_

She had felt her body go numb, and she released a small breath, the darkness covering her once more.

* * *

**[. . .]**

* * *

Star swallowed guiltily as a swarm of pink magic engulfed the headless corpse of a monster, her eyes shutting closed. It disintegrated into ash a second later, releasing a sound that resembled that of sizzle and pop.

She opened her eyes to see the ash of what was left of the monstrosity blow away, scattering onto the ground. It smelled like burnt meat, which was a likely better smell than the rotting death that had been around previously. A human would take longer to decompose, but a monster's being was easily crumbled in a matter of two days.

The smell of death wasn't unfamiliar to her, though it wasn't any less terrible. It reminded her of her time during Saint Olga's, specifically a room that contained piles of dead princesses and people who used to work there. She had stumbled in it when she attempted an escape for the first time, and she hurled the very moment she saw such things.

The vomit tasted like the blood she drank when her tongue was cut severely over chewing pieces of glass.

Her mouth had a faint taste of iron, and she swallowed, seeming as if the liquid was running down her throat and pooling into her stomach. It was gross to think about, and yet, she found that she couldn't care. Gross wasn't the right word; maybe terrifying, horrible perhaps.

"I forgot about those."

Star dropped the second to last carcass in alarm, stepping back when it squelched at the drop and prickled bits of green blood everywhere. "Oh," Star replied, not turning around, "I almost did too."

Marco saw bits of pink surround the dead body again, and he raised an eyebrow when she burnt it to a crisp. "Smells like shit out here," He said, leaning his body against a lamppost.

Star didn't turn around. "Then you should head back inside," She responded.

Marco rolled his eyes. "Even if I do, the front door's left open. I can still smell it."

"Then close it," Star said as if it were obvious.

Marco had a sour look on his face. "I'll lock you out."

Star became quiet as she stared at the last floating body, perturbed by his response.

Marco had kept the smug on his face off of him, even if she wasn't turned around to see it on him.

"You won't," Star replied, gentle, burning the last body there was.

Marco's chocolate eyes became hazel from the brightness of the last fire. When the flame died down, his eyes returned to their natural color of mahogany. He felt unusual again.

And somehow, when she turned around, the feeling had pooled into his stomach.

It felt like butterflies.

He glared. "Are you done?"

Star didn't like the smell. She never did. "Yes."

* * *

**[. . .]**

* * *

She was dead.

She had to be.

Her skin had a lighter shade, and the blood leaking from her wounds was pitching a lifeless appearance on her body, looking like she was just murdered viciously in front of him by his own hands.

_She might as well have been._

Tom felt worried, upset. _Useless_.

He had been so stupid, so utterly _stupid_.

Why had he brought her here? Couldn't he have just told her to come with him? It was so simple. And yet because of his simple _mistake_ , here she was, unconscious, possibly dead, just because he couldn't keep her back on earth.

The blood kept going. It had stained his hand, it had stained his shirt, his bed, and now, it had stained his very soul. He had many, but his primary soul was forever damaged because of what he's done. This was his doing. It was his fault.

He could have stopped it. There were many ways to do so, and yet, he found himself, of all situations, in the very _worst_ one. _Why didn't you listen to her?_

"What the hell am I going to do?" He murmured to himself, his hands warm from where he pressed on, his wrist starting to hurt from the pressure. "I can't take her to a hospital," Tom muttered, his panic spiked, "They won't help her on time."

The souls trapped inside him cried in anguish over experiencing the pain he was feeling, making his ears ring in a continuous harmonious deadly howl. They wouldn't shut up.

They kept going.

And going.

And _going_.

Faintly, among them, he could hear her little soul, crying and howling unlike any other.

This... There was no outcome to this.

The only possibility there was, was her death.

And what was he to do about it?

He can't stop death.

He furrowed his brows.

His mother could. But it would be a long process. He didn't have enough time for that.

She was dying.

Maybe she was dead.

He breathed in deeply, ignoring the strong smell of metal piercing his sinuses, shaking his head gently to shake away the panic. Her blood was making him dizzy. He wasn't sure exactly why, but he presumed it to be because he had her soul on him still.

His eyes wandered to her body, and the stress plunged into his stomach when he realized she was barely breathing. Her chest rose and fell so slowly; he couldn't even tell if she _was_ breathing or not.

There was nothing he could do.

Not anymore.

"I promise you, you'll be fine," He lied, letting go of the towel in his hands to check the pulse on her wrist, "You'll be okay." He whispered, wondering why he couldn't feel her pulse anymore.

* * *

**[. . .]**

* * *

Marco touched the beige bandage on his cheek. Dry and clean. He would have been sure it would be bleeding by now once again, but was surprised to find that it was perfectly fine. It kind of creeped him out because it _should_ be bleeding, it _should_ be hurting, and it _shouldn't_ be fine. His eyebrows narrowed together in confusion.

Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Star, probably off to get ready for bed. Night had arrived, after all.

He felt her presence move from the kitchen to the stairs, and he barked back at his consciousness to keep quiet about the odd questions bubbling at the back of his head. It didn't matter to him. It shouldn't be a problem.

His cut was fine, and that was all that mattered.

"What'd you put on me?" Marco spoke up, turning to Star with his usual stupid glare.

Star was just heading up her room when he spoke, and she halted, puzzled. "What do you mean?"

Marco tapped along his cheek, "This," He said, emphasizing his wound, "What did you put on this?" He asked with a clearer tone, cursing at himself silently for even starting a conversation with her.

Star felt fuzzled, though she knew what he was talking about. "I do believe that I told you that it was a relaxing essence from my dimension, yes? Why do you ask?" She replied.

Marco didn't know why he asked. "What was in it?"

"It's ingredients?" Star asked.

"No shit," Marco replied.

Star scrunched up her nose in a snooty way upon hearing him curse, and scolded, "Don't say that. It's improper and not to mention _rude_."

Marco rolled his eyes, almost dramatically so. "Jesus _Christ_. You get on my case with anything I say," He grumbled.

Star glared. "I shouldn't have to if you didn't use foul language."

Marco glared back. "Good and bad are subjective, Queeny," He told her angrily, "It doesn't concern you whether I curse or not."

"It doesn't matter that said words are subjective," She snapped at him, baffled that he was arguing about such stupid things, "You should respect those to whom you speak to."

"If you haven't already known, Queeny, I don't respect _anyone_. So you and your respect can go fuck off." He spat back at her, tired of her stupid complaints.

Star flared, and her anger only spiked when he turned back to entertaining himself on the T.V. Just who did he think he was to speak to a princess like that? She walked behind the couch, "You are—"

Marco immediately turned off the T.V and stood, facing her with daggers in his eyes. " _You_ , are _annoying_."

Star could strangle him. "You are insufferable!" She retorted.

Marco went around the couch to head upstairs, deciding that it was better in the solitary confinement in his room rather than out in the open.

In his path, he was blocked by a fuming Star.

"You need—"

"What I _need_ is for you to get _out_ of my way," He growled, "You're being incredibly, and might I add, _stupidly_ , irritating."

Star shook her head, "I will not, not until you apologize—"

"For _what_?"

"For disrespecting a princess!" She snarled at him. Her anger should have died down. Unfortunately, his attitude had only provoked it more. He was right, she should get out of his way because the topic was such a stupid thing to argue about anyway, but she stayed in place, stubborn. She just felt like he should apologize for disrespecting her in such a way.

"What princess? All I see is a stupid _brat_ ," He said, shouldering past her, "Leave me the fuck alone."

Star stood back, watching him head up the stairs, angry. She should go after him. She should make him apologize.

But she stayed behind.

There was no use in getting angry.

Her glare faltered, and a frown formed on her lips.

Or sad.

It was such a waste of time, anyway.

She... had better things to do than relish even the tiniest amounts of company from him, angry or not.

It was best to focus on herself.

Like always.

There was a slam of wood against the wall, and as much as she knew it was just because he was being an angry prick, she couldn't help but hope he would open it up again just to properly speak to her.

He wasn't that way, though.

It didn't happen.

She didn't know him.

And he didn't know her.

It was good that they were distanced, angry.

That meant fewer feelings.

And less pain.

* * *

**[. . .]**

* * *

Marco released a puff of air as he slammed his door shut, angry out of his mind.

Who was that stupid brat to tell him what to say and what not to? She wasn't the boss of him. Nobody was.

He had total control of what he should say, every day, 24/7. He wasn't about to let some stupid girl ruin his freedom.

It didn't matter that she was a princess, or from another dimension.

It didn't matter that she was pretty, or possibly rich, or _sad_ —

' _She's not fucking pretty, dickhead_.' He scolded himself, locking his door, ' _She's ugly and annoying_.'

His heart thudded harshly against his ribcage for a split second at the thought that she was pretty. ' _Peh_. _Pretty? I'd rather die._ '

He parted from the door and walked to his bed. ' _You're terrible. Why did you even think about that? She's not important._ '

He sat by his nightstand, glancing at the broken clock he had beside him.

' _Ugh, no, I never considered her important. Don't think that, either._ '

His eyebrows crinkled together as his eyes looked at his window, viewing the moon in all its glory, his mind going on and on about her. He didn't mean to. But he couldn't help it.

He hated it.

He changed out of his clothes in exchange for his loose shorts and grey t-shirt, and in a desperate effort to try and forget about her, went to his bed and tried to sleep.

It didn't work.

"Unbelievable," He muttered aloud, sitting up in bed with an annoyed huff.

' _Why did I **talk** to her?'_

_'Why did I **say** that?'_

_'Why do I even **care**?_'

He got up from his bed and went to his door.

And unlocked it.

* * *

**[. . .]**

* * *

Tom gripped the towels tight, his eyes screwed shut. He couldn't do it. He couldn't save her.

Every ounce of his demon magic was used to try and bring her back, and though he was exhausted to the core, he had tried time and time again, but it was a wasted effort. His head pounded and he felt dizzy, more so than earlier. Her blood was crispy and dry on his hands.

And she...

_'Why did I do it?'_

Unaware, small acid tears began to well up in the corner of his eyes.

" _You **accepted**. You didn't try. Why do **you** cry?_" An accented voice spoke in the darkness of his room, probing him to stand up in alarm.

His eyes narrowed and fire sparked at the tip of his fingers, "Who said that?" He asked, a dark threat to his tone of voice.

From above, in the center of his grand room, the small pit of fire perched in a shallow pot began to rattle, emitting a faint smell of ash and ember.

Tom immediately turned around to attack his opponent with glowing red eyes, only to stop and see a large and thick book fall from the said shallow pot.

" _Pity you, pity her. Do you not recognize me now, sir?_ " The same voice said, the book standing upright. It had the face of a demon with horns and sharp teeth embedded in a leathered cover with odd and unique golden lettering. It looked to be facing him.

Tom relaxed and his eyes returned to their normal color, his angered expression softening to confusion. "Who... _What_ are you? I thought you didn't speak." He said, narrowing his eyes again.

The book remained in its same position." _What a shame. However, that is not the matter we must address, for someone else has suffered all the same._ " The book stated, floating up and placing itself on the black book pedestal. " _Demon Prince Tom Lucitor, Is it? Or do I confuse you with Prince Ember?_ "

"Prince... Ember? No man, I'm _Tom_. Tom Lucitor. You just literally called me your prince." Tom corrected, offended that the book would compare him to his great-grandfather who did nothing but sit around all day in his throne room.

" _Ah yes_ ," The book said, " _You must be the half-demon. Born to a human from 2nd to close dimension of Terra and a demon from the darkest pits of hell itself._ "

Tom felt a swell of irritation bubble within him. "In case you haven't _noticed_ ," Tom clenched and picked at the fabric of his white shirt, pulling at it, "I'm drenched in blood. Her, blood," He pointed at Janna's wilted form.

The Book's eyes became a bright red, " _As you should be. Your parents made a terrible decision becoming one, though their discipline at least hasn't become undone._ "

Tom glared, "May I remind you that it was my parents who made your servitude longer?"

" _Do you wish to save your friend or not?_ " The Book asked, " _Or else it will cost_."

Tom didn't like the sudden attitude given, and he would have given the book shit for it, but he had more pressing matters at hand. "Yes, please," Tom said, releasing an exasperated sigh, "I... I can't fix this myself. I would ask for help, but—"

" _It isn't new, that you, so blue, come to me to seek my help. I have always been there to show, but never to tell. I have always been there to clean up your messes, you misjudged demon,"_ The book said, a clear mock and aggravation in its tone of voice.

Tom narrowed his eyes, offended. "Have you come here to mock me, or to help me?" He asked, "My friend is _dying_."

" _Of course, my apologies_." It replied, and the red in its eyes became gold.

Tom covered his eyes when the book emitted a bright flash of light. Tom removed the blockage in his sight to see the book flip and flip through various pages.

Tom stepped closer, watching as the pages slowly stopped turning, and finally land in one.

" _Do what the brightened letters tell you to do, for it is the solution to your problem you wish to undo_." The book told him steadily.

Tom slid his fingers across the golden lettering, his eyes widening as he read the demon language before him. His expression became grim. "This won't be able to help her," Tom instantly said, recoiling back from the book.

" _You're being foolish. It will. Trust my judgment, young one._ " The book replied sourly, it's voice slightly louder than before.

Tom's face flushed and he glared, "It won't work. Just because I—"

The book slammed shut, " _If you want to save her, do as you're told_." The book warned.

Tom looked at the book with distrust in his eyes, "It won't bring her back 100%." Tom mumbled.

There was a brief silence, only the howls of the dead and the waves of fire in the background prooved as sound.

Then, "Hesitation will only lead to devastation."

Tom swallowed, his mouth dry. It was a perfect plan. A perfect solution.

So why was he so against it?

His head turned to look at Janna, finding her the same, but worse. Pulling at the collar of his shirt, "Are you sure this is... what I need to do?" He asked, hesitant.

The book began to float, "Indeed it is." It said.

Tom furrowed his brows, conflicted. He didn't want to do it.

' _Quit acting like a child. She's dying, she's probably dead, even. Bring her back. Save her. It will only cost one thing_.'

But he had to.

He looked at the book straight in the leather front, only to see it disappear in a flash. All it left was a skull and a purple feather.

He cringed at the fact that he was actually alone again and stepped back from the book pedestal. He walked to his bed with a spark of something inside him, and with as much will as he could muster, he hovered only a few inches above her face, his feet planted on the solid carpeted ground.

His eyes skimmed the trickle of blood on the side of her head that poured to make a solid dry line on her cheek, his hand cupping said cheek.

' _You did it before._ '

He leaned closer, his lips almost touching her own.

' _Do it again_.'

He captured her lips to his own, full and vivid with emotional turmoil and the relishing touch of warm softness. ( _ **Lmao, what is this, Snow White?**_ )

In that instant, Janna had grasped his hand that was touching her cheek, smudging his color in red. The pain that had consumed her not too long ago that caused her to die had rid itself away, and no longer did she feel weak.

Instead of the weakness that should have resulted because of how much blood she lost, she felt her strength return, and all of a sudden, his lips and hand had begun to burn her. But it wasn't painful.

It was a numbing, mild pain, and instead of pulling away, she found herself deepening her fullness into his.

It felt long, ever-lasting.

And though she would never imagine herself in something like this or even imagine liking it, she found that it was all quite the opposite. It was soothing.

It was warm.

It was calming.

And as quick as he kissed her, and though she felt it was long, he pulled away just as fast.

She had gasped for breath and her eyes had opened, her body sitting up in bed. Her eyes were wide with shock and confusion, and only when she looked up did she realize what just happened.

Her body instinctively jumped out of his bed, and while doing so, stepped against his shoes and felt her body go backward.

" _Shit_ ," She cursed and reached out to grab something in order not to fall further, only to feel a burning hold on her waist, and Tom mere inches from her face.

Her hand that reached out had gripped his shoulder, while her other lay limp against her body.

He was staring at her, and she was staring at him, surprised.

"Oh," Was all she managed to say, a warm feeling settling in her chest.

"Hey," He said in turn, offering her an awkward smile.

Janna blinked. Her face became blank.

Tom kept staring, unsure of what to say. What was he going to say? 'Oh hey, I just kissed you and saved your life! You may probably develop this and that for me, so no biggie!' _No._ No, that was _not_ an option.

"Uh," Janna cleared her throat and removed her hand from his shoulder, "Not to be rude or anything, but you can let go of me now." She said, bored.

"Oh, shoot, sorry," He apologized, sheepish, letting go of her waist and suddenly feeling empty.

"It's fine," She said, brushing herself off, only to find her clothes ripped.

"Jeez." She muttered, shaking her head, "What the hell happened to me?"

Tom scratched the back of his neck, "I'm... not exactly sure? I..." He swallowed, grim, "I found you, on the floor, bleeding to death."

Janna's eyebrows raised. "Huh. That sounds horrific." She said, not at all surprised or shocked.

"Most definitely."

There was a short pause.

"You... saved me?" She asked in an accidental quiet voice, quirking an eyebrow.

Tom looked down at his bloody attire, and then at her. "I mean, I guess. Yeah." He murmured.

Janna, in the small perch of bright flames from the outside, was noticeable that she tinged slightly pink, only for a painful second. "Oh. Okay, well, _wow_. Thanks." She said, sincere.

Tom, with the same bright flame, was mesmerized over the new color of milked hazel her eyes reflected. "Yeah, of course," He smiled.

She attempted a smile of her own, and from the expression on his face, she presumed for once, it had proven successful.

How... nice.

* * *

**[. . .]**

* * *

Marco shuffled close to his blanket, burying his nose in the fuzzy warmth of it all.

Although it took great effort for him to finally fall asleep, he was proud that tonight he had managed to do such a thing. Most nights, he wouldn't even get any drop of slumber.

In his deep slumbered state, he had not realized somebody had opened his door.

And because he was asleep, he didn't realize that the room suddenly became warm, warm enough for him to remove his blanket.

Marco felt something touch his shoulder from beside him, the same heat he felt becoming stronger. Surprisingly, it smelled like strawberry watermelon.

His sleepy eyes slowly opened up, instantly locking to a beautiful crystallized blue.

Star was in his sight, and somehow, just by looking at her, had woken him up more. His slightly blurry vision adjusted, and indeed, he could tell it was Star.

She was in her pajamas he noticed, with her hair down from her usual ponytail.

The expression on her face resembled fear. His brows furrowed, wondering deep down what had alerted her to wake _him_ up.

"What's..." He yawned, rather annoyed, "What is it _now_...?"

Her voice was low and husky, but it was crystal clear.

"Someone's in the house."


	7. Comfortable

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> His life had been filled with death and heartbreak, changing him for the worst. That is, until one obedient princess helped change it for the better. - [MarcoBadBoy!AU]

* * *

**[. . .]**

* * *

_Narrator's P.O.V_

* * *

**[. . .]**

* * *

"Someone's in the house."

Marco stared at Star in an irked manner the instant she said such a thing, feeling utterly irritated that his goodnight's rest was being disturbed. Didn't she know that she shouldn't bother people when they're in their REM sleep? _So annoying_. "Go back to sleep," Marco hissed quietly at her, glaring her down. He noted that his intimidation with his glower didn't work on her as he hoped it would.

Star scowled instead. "I will do _no_ such thing." She replied obstinately. The anger in her eyes had caught him off-guard. Almost as quick as the surprise came to him, however, it vanished, and he found that he could care less whether or not she was angry at him.

In response, he dramatically pulled the blanket over himself and turned away from her, facing the wall. If she refused to leave, then he'd gladly ignore her. The fastest way to get rid of someone, as far as he knew, was to do just that. It's worked so far for him. Well, only if he disregards the other times that she's persisted when he didn't want to.

He felt a hand touch his shoulder. It was warm and soft, touching against his aching joint that still seemed sore after the events of yesterday. It made him blank out the instant she touched him, confusing him. A question was bubbling up his throat, or perhaps, a demand, to let him go so that he could find slumber. Unfortunately, her same hand began to shake him vigorously in a way that was too strong for a feeble princess to do.

"What _gives_?" Marco growled at her when he turned to face her again, "I'm _trying_ to fucking _sleep_."

"And I'm trying to warn you that someone is in the house!" Star reclaimed, frustrated that the attractive male in front of her didn't listen. For once, couldn't he listen to her and stop being such a grump?

Marco sat up, glunching. "You must be going crazy, sweetcheeks. There _can't_ be someone in the house. I put tempered glass on all windows and extra locks in all doors. It's impossible," He said, trying to assure her everything was okay so that he could go back to sleep. Tempted as he was to check, he was too tired to bother.

Star's angered expression morphed to worry. "But... But I'm sure there's someone in here. There was so much noise coming from the lower levels of your home," Star replied.

Marco raised an eyebrow, "If you're so damn worried, why don't _you_ check it out?" He asked.

Star bit her lip trepidatiously and pulled at her long golden locks of hair. "I... I cannot." She muttered.

Marco glared, "And _why_ not?"

Star pouted girlishly, to which he couldn't help but center on. "I'm afraid to go by myself," She admitted, and he turned his eyes to her own when she spoke.

"You're _what_?" He hadn't intended for his voice to come out so harsh.

Star glared then, "I'm _afraid_ , Diaz. What, do you want me to expressively vocalize it for you to hear?" She asked, sibilating her words. Was he trying to make a fool of her?

Marco scoffed, "Really? You, the girl who I saw kill a bunch of monsters, is scared of going downstairs alone? Tch." Marco shook his head, "You've done worse. Suck it up."

Star sighed. "I know. But... I don't know. I'm just afraid of being alone." She whispered, twiddling her fingers anxiously.

Marco's eyes flashed.

"I'm..."

There was a crash of something breaking from below them.

Star flinched at the sound and Marco looked at his door, narrowing his eyes. That... That wasn't possible. Nobody can get in. He's tried to before when he lost his keys. The only other person who has the keys to his parent's house is his instructor, but he never visits. Not to mention, if he _were_ to be in his house, why would he be breaking things? There's nothing of value here.

He owns nothing here.

He sighed. "Fine. I'll go with you," He muttered.

"You will?" Star beamed.

"Yes," Marco hissed, rolling his eyes. "There's someone in here, so I'm _forced_ to check it out." He grumbled as he got out of his bed to put on his slippers.

Star breathed a sigh of relief. "Thank you," She then said, smiling at him.

He stared at her smile for a moment when he reached to open the cabinet of his nightstand, surprised. Why was she smiling? Why was she saying thank you? He just told her that he didn't want to go with her. He only agreed to do it because someone managed to get in. So why did he receive a thank you? He was acting like... an asshole.

With friction, he decided to ignore her comment and open his cabinet, retrieving a flashlight.

He clicked it on with a press of a button and a wave of light hit the wall opposite of them. He stood, and with an exasperated sigh said, "Let's get this over with."

* * *

**[. . .]**

* * *

Marco closed his door and began to make his way to the stairs, treading down the old creaky wood with Star following after him.

From each step they took was an eery sound made. A shiver ran down their spines from such a noise every third measure they walked on. It made Star uneasy and she trembled, the darkness reminding her of the stony halls of where she lost her happiness so long ago. She shook her head and clutched her wand tight, afraid to let go of the only source of protection she had.

Marco could feel the weariness she gave off and it bothered him. To relieve his stress, he turned back to check on her. He rose an eyebrow when she looked at him, clearly fearful.

"What?" She whispered, her hand reaching over to brush away some of the hair bothering her face.

Marco blinked at the gesture and then turned back around. "Nothing." He replied, glaring in front of him as he felt his hand that held the flashlight tremble a little.

Star paid him no mind. She was sleepy but otherwise wide awake; the events unfolded tonight had woken her up for once instead of the endless dreams of suffering that replayed every night in her head.

Marco stopped at the bottom of the stairs. Star was a few steps behind him, and she observed, watching his light hit different walls with no pictures and the closed blinds of the windows that covered the lovely moonlight from coming in. There was nothing there.

"Reminds me of a horror movie," Marco mumbled to himself jokingly despite the glare on his face.

Star looked at him, confused, "Horror... movie?"

"What?" He asked.

"You... You mentioned a... horror movie?"

Marco looked at her. He made a face, "Do you even _know_ what a horror movie is?" He asked.

Star played with the wing on her wand. "No."

"Of course you wouldn't," Marco mumbled as he made his way to the living room.

Star frowned as he began to do the same thing he had done when he stopped on the stairs; he checked the area for anything broken or any walls that were brought down, only to find nothing out of place.

Marco glared and straightened from his protective stance. This didn't seem right. Why was everything okay? Shouldn't an intruder make messes to search for any valuables? It didn't make sense.

He looked at Star, "Something's not right. There's nothing out of place," He said.

Star noticed it too. "Perhaps... the dining area?" She asked.

"There would've been a mess here. What would they want from the _kitchen_?" He asked, incredulous.

Right on cue, the sound of a plate breaking was heard from said place. They snapped their heads at the sound and felt themselves stiffen.

"What was that?" Star whispered, pointing her wand in the direction where the sound came from.

"Pot, plate, maybe? How should I know?" He replied bitterly, walking towards the kitchen.

Star glared at him, "What's with you?"

He glared back, "Nothing. I'm just mad you woke me up," He muttered, entering the kitchen.

"Well, I'm _sorry_ , Diaz. It's not like our lives weren't in danger and I just happened to want to wake up for no reason! How disrespectful of me," She retorted sarcastically, trying her best not to roll her eyes. It wasn't the manners of a queen to do such a childish thing.

Marco wasn't known to care. "You're the one overreacting. There's probably nobody here," He mumbled. Upon going around the counter in the center of the kitchen, he immediately regretted what he said.

Star saw the broken plates and the old mugs scattered on the floor, her eyes widening. She looked at Marco, "Nobody's here?" She repeated sarcastically, raising an annoyed brow.

Marco rolled his eyes. "I broke these." He lied.

Star blinked dryly at him.

Marco sighed. "Maybe not." He grumbled and ran a hand through his hair. The light moved around and hit various parts on the wall, occasionally sometimes Star's face. He frowned, "This can't be right. Who the fuck is in my fucking house?" He stated angrily, glaring over at Star and then out the kitchen. He crouched and picked up one of the broken shards, examining it. This was his favorite _mug_.

"Did they _really_ —"

Star screamed.

Marco jumped and was on his feet immediately, pointing his flashlight at Star, who he suddenly found was in front of him. "What the _hell_ —"

"What _is_ that?" Star asked urgently, her voice high, her hands shakingly pointing in the direction of a dark corner in the kitchen. She seemed to cover him, which he couldn't help but notice.

Marco angeled his head so he could point the flashlight at the area where she kept blabbering about, " _Seriously_?"

Star lowered her wand.

There was only a cat.

"What?" Star's expression slackened to confoundment and she lowered her wand.

The cat was shivering from the cold, it's orange coat wet. Star looked at it shamefully, a swell of embarrassment rising from her chest.

"A cat? A fucking _cat_?" He said exasperatedly, rubbing his hand down his face.

Star grimaced from his tone.

He set the flashlight down and made his way over to the little creature, approaching it slowly. It may be a kitten, but that didn't mean it couldn't still scratch or hiss at him. Careful not to harm it, he bent down and grabbed onto it gently, feeling the soaked fur grime his hands. It meowed and attempted to part from his grip, but it relaxed when Marco placed it on the counter to take a look at it.

Star saw the innocent creature frantically look behind it and at her, her heart melting from how tiny it looked. She didn't reach for it and stayed in place, frowning at the thought of how ridiculous she acted. It was only a harmless creature. It wasn't the monster she thought it was, which both relieved and embarrassed her. Marco was sure to call her stupid right now.

A yellow blanket was draped over the baby, and Star watched as Marco rubbed the dry material over the slightly dirtied fur of the kitten. It looked like it was smiling now and her heart thudded when she saw Marco gently patting over the kitten's head and belly. The kitty released a small yip of surprise, but it didn't attack. It looked content, and in wonderment, she saw Marco not _once_ bothered from having to clean the helpless little thing. He looked like a responsible human being, and for some reason the thought of that made her feel... something.

She blushed when he turned to her as he took off the towel, his face blank. "It was a cat," He told her as he opened a cabinet from the counter and took out another dry towel, "Kitten, actually."

Star bit her lip and tapped her finger against the small crown sculpted on her wand. She kept quiet, feeling foolish. If it wasn't for her panicking, Marco would be soundly asleep and not in the kitchen probably talking bad about her in his mind. Whatever he said, he was probably right. She's always overreacting...

Marco felt uneasy when he was met with silence. He liked it, but it just seemed... off now. Silence from Star was never a good sign. So, to not feel all stupid, he attempted to come up with something to say. "This is what you woke me up for?" He asked innocently, staring at her with no expression shown on his face. He wasn't sure why he wanted to attempt small-talk if all he wanted to do was go to sleep. This stupid girl woke him up—he should be _pissed_ right now. And he was, but not anymore.

Star felt her gut churn, unsure why his words affected her so much. Unaware to Marco, it sounded like he was belittling her.

Star twirled a few strands of her hair on her finger, pulling at it lightly. "...My apologies..." She muttered, trying to speak as clear as she could, "I did not realize it was a... kitty." Her voice was still quiet.

Marco made a face, "Well no _shit_ , both of us didn't know. It sounded like somebody else was in here," He grumbled, rolling his eyes. He continued to pet the cat as a few minutes ticked by, wondering if what he said sounded weird. He hoped it didn't; he didn't want to sound too mean. Maybe that's why she was silent again. Had he... bothered her?

He stopped and peered at her, finding her looking away from _him_. He scowled at that. Did she not like him _that_ much?

Star tried to control herself and dim down the redness on her face. She was both embarrassed and confused as to why his actions with drying the cat outstood her. Everyone with a good heart does that, she shouldn't be surprised—

"Cats always come in here." He commented out of nowhere, patting the kitten's head.

Star returned her attention to him. "...They do?" She asked, surprised to find him speaking instead of scolding her.

Marco glared at the cute little thing, "Yeah. It's sort of annoying," He said.

"Oh," Star replied simply, stepping closer to the counter. "...Is it?"

Marco gave her a look. "Well. _Yeah_. They mess up a lot of my things. And they dirty my carpet a lot," He said.

Star reached over and ran her hand gently down the kitty's head. It leaned onto her touch, and her heart soared from how adorable it was. "...I wouldn't mind it." She smiled at it.

Marco saw the smile on her face and stared at it, indifferent. He looked into her eyes, "So you'd rather have them around your house messing up your furniture?" He asked sarcastically, raising an eyebrow.

Star frowned. "If it meant being less lonely..." She said unintentionally, still brushing down the kitten's fur; the feline purred at her touch.

At this, his heart stopped. He removed his attention on the purring kitten to regard it on her, completely taken back from her words. He noticed how sad she looked now, her curled lips downward, those pretty eyes of her dull and empty. The color of her irises looked more gray than blue in the pale moonlight; the darkness of the room shadowed the rest of her face. Her hand was still petting the cat, slowly now, and he found himself realizing that her tone of voice was softer than before.

Something heavy was felt inside his chest. It twisted and made him feel vulnerable. He wasn't sure what it was exactly that resembled panic, but it wasn't a comforting feeling. Not with the way she looked, and certainly her words didn't help. They were the cause of his unusualness, after all.

She was silent again. He took his time to observe her; she was playing with one of the kitten's ears as her upper body slouched against the counter, entranced on the creature. It was a peaceful sight, he realized. However, the sad look to her face ruined it.

He looked again at the kitten on the counter, bothered that he admired her. It made him feel stupid and... and icky, wishing only to erase the look on her face away from his mind. It was a genuine look of sadness that reflected his own. She looked so broken and yet so perfectly content... It almost suited her. But the smile from before...

He looked at her again.

She was not smiling. She continued to idly stand as she pet the kitten.

The smile looked real. From before, it looked real. Her smiles look good on her, he thought. It was a nice sight to see other than his angered face, or the look of someone lost on her's.

She felt his eyes on her and she looked back. The instant she did, he looked away.

"When I was younger, I was always alone."

Marco fought back the urge to look at her. "Yeah?" He said, nonchalant. He didn't want her to know he was thinking about her.

Star stopped petting the kitten and crossed her arms over the clean marble counter. "Yes... I didn't mind it, though." She admitted.

He still didn't look. He didn't respond, either.

"I was always so busy jumping around in the gardens," She paused, remembering, "And in my room, playing with the wooden toys my mother bought me." She whispered as her finger rubbed at the marble.

"Tell me why you're telling me this again?" He asked rudely, not meaning to do so. He was just confused, and he wanted to know what interested her in telling him some of her stories. He didn't want her telling him secret stuff if she didn't want to.

Star was irritated at first that he would say such a thing, but the moment she took a look at his face, she recognized he was only asking because he genuinely wanted to know. Astonished, she stood there, staring at him. She was thinking over what he said, searching for an answer that felt appropriate. She sighed. "I don't know... I suppose it's because of your response—it interested me." She told him honestly, dim.

Marco didn't comprehend. "What about my response?" He asked.

"You sounded so negative when you said it," She told him, startling him, "You seem to care so fondly for that kitten. I found it... confusing."

He eyed her suspiciously. "Confusing _how_?"

Star saw the cat get off the counter and head into the living room. They paid it no mind. "You handled it so lovingly... and yet you speak so harshly of the innocent beings." She told him, frowning at the thought of the cats suffering the harsh conditions of the outside.

Marco narrowed his eyes. "And what about it? Just because I take care of them doesn't mean I have to like it," He said, scowling at her accusingly.

Star fiddled with the wand by her chest. "But... If you don't like it, why do you do it?" She asked, perplexed. He was only confusing her more.

Marco was glaring now. "Sometimes doing the right thing doesn't make people feel good, princess," He spat, angry.

"Doing the right thing makes _anyone_ feel good—"

"No, it _doesn't_ ," He interrupted, "Some people are tired of doing that, Star."

 _He said my name_ , she thought.

"Just because we do the right thing doesn't mean _anything_. Sure, it's good to see others... _okay_ ," He cringed at the way he phrased it, "But what good does it bring if those who you help don't appreciate it?" He hissed, waving his hand around.

Star pulled at her hair and gazed sadly at him and wondered if he was right. It certainly brought her genuine delight whenever she would see someone happy out of her cause, but when they didn't bother with her anymore, it did bring her down. She helped her mother always, proud, but she would never... She would never...

The numbness in her mind abruptly became sharp.

Marco's eyes widened when he saw a tear roll down Star's cheek.

She felt her eyes border amidst imperfections but she found that she could care less. All this time... Why hadn't she realized such a thing before? She would always thank, always help, always _be_ there for those who she had before... Did she only now realize that none of those people ever appreciated her? Was she always so blind? So... stupid?

Marco watched guiltily as more tears fell, his glare faltering at the sight of her broken. He felt his soul throb and twist, a sort of pain that began to form in his upper body. His hands tingled with emotional pain and he couldn't help but grip them tight, upset to see her like that. It just didn't look like her; it didn't fit her character. It bothered him so much to see her so damaged, so disheartened... _But... why?_

He wanted to comfort her. He wanted to tell her everything would be okay, that it was just something stupid he said. He wanted to let her know that he was just a piece of shit by nature, and even if he tried not to be, he just couldn't stop it.

He wanted to tell her that it didn't matter. It didn't matter if you didn't like it, that no matter what, the right thing should be done always.

He wanted to...

But he couldn't. He didn't believe that, and he was so stupidly stubborn...

It just didn't fit well with him, lying to her. Lying to keep someone okay? It's the worse thing to ever do.

What he told her was the truth. It was the truth he had to live in and keep living in. His life was only assigned to the spirits of betrayal and disaster. He wanted her to see that without him having to tell her. He wanted her to apprehend that life was like that. _What he couldn't understand, however, was that his morals were forced to be one way when hers were another._

"I feel so stupid..." Star whispered to herself more than anything, one of her hands wiping the tears from her face. Her other was clenched tight beside her, her nails practically sinking into her skin.

Marco frowned sadly from her claim. _Why do I feel like this? I shouldn't care._

"I'm so stupid..." She said yet again, and her eyes glared at the marble in front of her.

Marco sighed. "Stop... Stop being dramatic..." He shook his head, "Things happen. It's over. It's just... It's _stupid_ to keep thinking about it," He told her, feeling like a hypocrite. He thought about everything all the time. He vowed he would never forget.

Star wiped more of her tears away, not bothering to answer.

"Things like this happen all the time." He became stern. "If we keep thinking about it, if we keep _reminding_ ourselves—"

"How can we _not_?" She hissed at him, looking sadder now rather than angry. It was a desperate cry, the look of helplessness on her face present.

Marco clamped his mouth shut.

"I'm aware things like this happen for most of our lives... but we can't forget! We're _ruined_ , Marco, don't you see that?" She told him exasperatedly, shaking her head.

Marco glared, "Well what the fuck _should_ we do when we think about that? We can't be sad _forever_ , Star!" He hissed back.

"You don't get it!" She spat in return. _He said my name again._

Marco's eyes flared, "Me? _I_ , don't get it? You don't even _know_ me—"

"I know enough about you that you just don't **care**! You **never** have, and when I **try** to be **nice** to you, or when I try to **understand** you better, you—" She gulped in a breath, her eyes becoming green, "You—You **just** —"

"I _what_?" He insists, boiling. He held back the tiny welts of fear pringling from his blood, suppressing the flinch when her tone became harsh. He tried not to dwell too much that she caught onto his bullshit way before he did, and hoped only to keep his head in gear with such true accusations from her. There was a coil of concern and sadness building up that dared to be presented to her; he was just about to tell her how much he's _suffered_. He was going to tell her how _wrong_ she was and how _stupid_ she sounded accusing him of things she didn't know about, telling her about his sufferings that led him to become this way.

It wasn't _his_ fault, and yet she was _still_ screaming at him. He was only trying to _help_. That's all he's ever tried doing, and not once had anyone bothered to help him in return. He wasn't about to let this girl tell him who he was when she didn't even know him.

"You..." She couldn't find anything else to say. She swallowed thickly as her tears only increased in volume, running down the broken hearts on her cheeks. "You..." She shook her head and she tried to control herself, her hand reaching over toward her chest. Said hand clenched the fabric of her nightgown, feeling her chest contract. It was hard to breathe, and she felt like she wasn't receiving any sort of breath from the way she cried.

It... What was she _doing_?

She turned away from him and leaned her body against the counter.

From where Marco stood, he could hear her breathing gradually slow. At first, he was sure she was going to have another panic attack. The state of her body and the way her countenance formed to brittle panic was a clear indication—it was his fault, and he was _worried_ —but she managed to calm herself down.

The night silence that was brought upon them after their storm was full of calming breaths from both of them. Marco didn't even realize he was doing it himself.

"You don't want to..." Star whispered after a while of them standing alone in the kitchen. Her voice sounded broken and almost... gone.

Marco couldn't hide the surprise that fell on his face when he heard her.

She turned around and faced him, her eyes brimming with tears. The look on his face told her everything. "You refuse." She paused to grab her hair and bring it back, as it was messy due to her outburst. "But I have come to terms that I can't make you tell me these things. I can't make you... my friend," She muttered, blinking quickly to get rid of her remnant tears.

Marco was speechless.

Star felt vulnerable. "My outburst was unnecessary," She grabbed the ends of her nightgown and curtsied, "I apologize for my behavior and I bid you a good night's rest." She whispered, looking at him again before walking out of the kitchen and heading upstairs.

He watched her go and remained looking in the direction she went even after hearing her door close, feeling like a complete asshole.

He remained there, standing, wondering why he was the way he is.

* * *

**[. . .]**

* * *

Janna pulled lightly at one of the thick black strands of her short hair as she gazed upon her image in the mirror. She stared at herself and picked apart dry blood that stuck on her hair, judging her tired appearance. This... was what happened to her in only a matter of minutes. She surprised herself; even if her cheeks stained red and her body looked like it was drenched in blood, she thought it didn't look half as bad. That cliff that managed to get the best of her achieved to enhance the look to her appeasement.

Unfortunately, she couldn't help but frown in distaste whenever her thoughts of earlier brought a scared feeling from inside her.

It was brought to her attention that in situations that involved life or death, they were usually taken lightly in her eyes. She thought it was pretty normal to die and to live. Of course, she's had her experiences between death—messing with dark magic wasn't exactly a safe hobby—so she understands.

Her recent encounter with it was not the same, though, and now, she believes differently.

The mirror displaying where she had been hit even without the wounds present made her think hard about what could've happened. Her clothes were torn in certain areas and her hair, again with her stupid hair, it stuck on her face like glue. She unconsciously pulled it away and watched the goop remnants of her blood go with it.

She sort of cringed at it. Not because she was queasy when it came to gore, but because she needed a shower. The blood smell made her dizzy.

Maybe that's why she was in the restroom. She completely forgot she had asked Tom to use it because she needed one.

"Hey, uh, Janna?"

Janna stopped staring at herself to gaze at the door reflected in the mirror. "Yeah?" She replied, her throat feeling gooey. She made a face.

"I just sort of realized... Do you even have any clothes?"

Janna blinked at herself in the mirror. "Huh... Nah, I don't think so," She replied with a shrug and went for the door.

"Oh... Then how—" Tom let out an unmanly squeal when the door to the bathroom opened, blushing.

"Yeah, maybe we should go back to my place so that I can freshen up," She deadpanned, staring at him indifferently.

Tom coughed onto his hand as his blush died down, "Oh. Yeah. Sure, that could also... help."

Janna rose an eyebrow. "You look like an eggplant. What, did you expect me to come outside naked?" She asked, side-grinning when she saw his face get impossibly darker in hue.

Tom glared. "No," He muttered and then walked away, "Just... nothing."

"You so did," She teased.

"Shut _up_."

She laughed.

And then she winced.

Tom stopped searching for his scissors when he heard a sharp hiss come out of her mouth, and turned, watching her slow down and clutch on the side of her hip with one hand. "...Janna..?" He asked, furrowing his brows.

Janna's vision was going fuzzy. "What?" She asked him, grasping at her head as it moved heavily around. Her arms weakened and she felt very sleepy all of a sudden, only wanting to lay down on something soft.

"You okay?" He asked, carefully walking in her direction.

Everything felt so heavy, and though she tried to speak, she felt her tongue numb. Her muscles hurt and her heart significantly slowed down.

Tom caught her when she fell.

"Okay... I think I'm just about _done_ fainting," Janna grumbled after a few minutes, glaring tiredly at him, "This is getting annoying."

Tom carefully picked her up and set her on his bed, "You're telling me," He joked, though the look on his face resembled guilt.

Janna let out a sigh. "I don't know how you did it. Bringing me back to life and junk," She closed her eyes as her muscles relaxed on the soft material, "But I'm getting a little pissed how my side's been hurting for the past few hours. Oh, and the fainting thing."

Tom sat beside her, observing her motionless body. "I don't know what's going on. The book told me—"

"That book is getting on my nerves. Does it by any chance have food spells?" She asked, cracking an eye open.

Tom shook his head.

She closed her eyes again, "What a shitty book. It probably cursed me or something. Which is impossible, but here I am." She looked calm despite the swelling pain.

Tom held conflict in his heart, resembling such conflict on his countenance. This was all his fault. If he would've just kept an eye on Janna as he had planned to, none of this would've happened. And worse yet, the way she was handling things made him feel even more guilty.

A riddled thought sprung from his head that flickered a small flame on the tip of his horns for only a couple of seconds. "My healing fire thing can work," He suggested casually. He wasn't sure they would, but from what he read in the book, perhaps he could heal her at least for a little while every day until she recuperated.

"Oh, really?" She asked, and now she was looking at him, a bit strained, "You realize I could've been getting treatment _hours_ ago?"

Her narrowed eyes scared him. "Yeaaah... Oops?" He looked sheepish as he smiled at her.

She sighed. "Can you?" She asked him, surprised with herself over how serious she sounded. Suddenly, she decided that being serious was the worst thing in the world.

Tom stared when she made a face. "Yeah. But it's not going to fix you like, right away," He mumbled, and frowned when he saw how exhausted she became.

"It's fine," She said and laid back down, sighing, "Better than nothing."

She paused.

Then, "So you mean to tell me I have to constantly have you heal me?"

Tom nodded.

Janna hummed.

" _Does that mean_ —"

" _No_ , Janna."

Janna snorted. "Riiiight."

Tom folded his arms. "Do you want me to heal you or not?"

Janna waved him off. "Whatever."

Tom rolled his eyes and began to do exactly what he promised himself to do.

* * *

**[. . .]**

* * *

The morning after didn't bring much joy to him.

After his brief fight with Star last night, he went to bed with his mind in a buzz. The rest of the night he remained awake. The ache in his chest forced him to do so, and his aimless thoughts roaming and even converting illusions of themselves into reality had screwed him over completely. They hid in depressive insomnia that stabbed him almost every single night, and that night, it was no different.

In truth, he felt like it was reasonable. He was right after what he said after all. The thing he happened to hate even as the birds chirped in the morning, alerting him it was time to wake up even if he hadn't slept a pinch, was the feeling of remorse over his actions. He regretted many things, and by far, the thing he disapproved of the most was losing someone.

They were both right. He admitted, that even if she didn't know him, he never _allowed_ her to. She accused him of not understanding, and he desired so greatly to tell her she was mistaken. And she was, in fact, wrong. He knew of pain just as much as she did, maybe less, but enough to comprehend where she was coming from. Unfortunately for him, he was in no way shape or form ready to tell her what happened to him.

He knows she'll just belittle him. Hell, he doesn't know anything about _her_. The one thing he knows is her trauma of something that happened before he was ever in the picture. The trauma she has, they share. He shares trauma too, perhaps of a different kind, but he understands. It is something mutual he unintentionally draws near to, and, by nature, wants to help.

And so the admittance befalls him the morning after. As he removed the blanket off his aching body and even as he stands to get ready, the guilt scooping his insides made him realize how much of an asshole he's been.

He's acted so irrationally and maybe, just crazy, just because he doubted of her. And he does. A full 100%.

But he couldn't grasp why she told him the things she did.

It was eating at him.

She wanted a friend.

And he's wondering, why of all things she's able to do that is impossible, she wants to seek a friend from him. It baffles him. He has _nothing_ of value. He doesn't deserve friends.

He knows he's a jerk, and he does not feel bad when he acts this way because he knows people and he knows they're all snakes in human suits. But...

"Why?" He asked himself out loud, and he gripped his hair, frustrated. "Why does she want to be friends with me?"

It doesn't make sense.

They don't _know_ each other.

"But I didn't let her _get_ to know me," He looks into the mirror and dwells on the bags under his eyes, "I didn't want anything to do with her."

The nagging and pushing of his buttons were delving deeper into his subconscious, and he ate it all, his pride still persistent.

He resented it. His pride did not allow him to feel. But he felt anyway.

And _he hated it_.

He despised it so much that after he dressed and left his room, he could not bear to look at the girl in the eye.

Because he knew, that if he looked at her, his walls would begin to crack. And he knew... He would feel something.

At least, more than what he already has.

* * *

**[. . .]**

* * *

"So you said you'd tell me about these," Janna said, bouncing the black cloth from one hand to another. She wore an idle grin now that she showered and dressed, feeling a tad more active presently with the refresher.

Tom tore his eyes away from his mirror-phone to look at her, eyebrow raised in question. "About what?" He asked, leaning against the table present before them.

"This, dumbass." She told, holding up the fabric with the two symbols he'd given her.

Tom suppressed the sudden cold that pierced his insides. " _Oh_... yeah," He muttered then uncertainly, eyeing the mysterious cloth, " _About_ that... I'm not going to tell you." He replied quickly, going back to his phone. The dread on his face was masked by the aloof nature he'd perfected over the years, but even if, Janna could tell he hid something.

Janna hummed kindly. "And why not?" She asked, paying discreet attention to the white and red symbols of Tom's Leather Jacket.

"Too personal." He waved off.

"What's more personal than your terrible I.D picture?" Janna summoned, holding the open wallet in front of her.

Tom snapped his head at her, " _What_?"

Janna wore a charming smile. "I'm kind of digging the braces look you have here. It makes you look cute," She praised while holding the card in her hands and leveling it to compare. She suppressed a laugh from the difference, moving her hand out of the way only when he stood to try and snatch it away.

A dark blush decorated his cheeks. "Can you _not_?" He asked, glaring when he attempted to grab it again only for her to keep it out of reach.

"You said you'd tell me about it afterward," She quipped, shrugging, "Give me the info, and I'll give you your wicked wallet," She smiled smugly.

Tom scoffed. "As if I'd tell you." He drew away from her.

Janna came closer, "Oh come on, you can't just leave me hanging like that. Tell you what," She suddenly held up his phone, "I'll return everything in exchange for... a kiss." She smirked.

Tom gawked and looked at his hands, finding them empty. He glared and turned to her. "Seriously?"

"Seriously." She nodded.

"You want a _kiss_!?"

Janna shrugged. "And what about it? I'm bored."

Tom flushed. "You can't just ask for a kiss! That means we have to make a deal—"

"Then let's make a deal," She cut.

Tom furrowed his brows. " _No_. No deals. Deals lead to trouble," He mumbled, stern.

"Well... I do like trouble," She insisted.

Tom said nothing.

Janna could see the anxiousness that pooled from his red irises. She rolled her eyes. "Fine. But you have to tell me what the letters mean," She grinned.

Tom shook his head. "Like I said," He huffed, "It's... personal."

Janna hummed. "Let me guess..." She drawled out, bored, "It has something to do with a stupid curse."

Tom blinked.

Janna waited.

"Yeah, actually," He agreed, brightening. "How'd you know?"

Janna's eyes twinkled with mischief. "Lucky guess," She replied, setting the cloth in the center of the table for the two to look at.

Lucky guess indeed...

"By the way..."

Tom narrowed his eyes.

"I like the jacket," She said cheekily and proceeded to hold it up.

It was then when Tom felt the cold on his back.

" _Janna_!"

**Author's Note:**

> There you go lovelies! I know it isn't much, but please review in order for me to know if I should continue. I swear it'll get juicier. I hope you enjoyed!
> 
> Toodles~
> 
> Ana.


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